Forsaken
by four-eyed 0-0
Summary: Someone comes in Britain just after You-Know-Who had risen. This person is nice. Of a trusted bloodline. But has got something forbidden to tell.  How will they find this newcomer? Will Harry be nice? Will the rest be nice to the forsaken? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Dedicated to: Gehlo, Ja2x, Nichz, Lai2x, Pawla, Seatmate, Yuklideanz and those I know love Harry Potter. :) 0-0**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own, in any way, Harry Potter characters, original book plot, among others. Rowling has. It's only Marguerite Corneille that I have. No one and nothing else.**

**Enjoy reading, as much as I did writing.**

**CHAPTER 1 - Marguerite**

There was a weird and peculiar feeling I was having as I dismounted my broomstick. It would be really nice if I didn't need to go to this place I had never laid my eyes on before. It was the Burrow. The house of my last relatives. It was still dark, though the sun was slowly rising, casting dim orange hues everywhere. I was tired. Of course, anyone should be. Imagine having to fly across the English Channel for twelve hours, without even a minute rest. Anyway, here I was now. And I couldn't back off.

I set foot on the doorstep and with hands trembling from fatigue, knocked impotently at the door. I waited. There was a nasty surge of heat across my face. It was searing, but not for long. The door finally opened.

And here was the plump and little aunt of mine, Mrs. Molly Weasley, beaming at me. She had tears in her eyes, though.

"Oh, dear, Marguerite!" she mumbled, jittering, and took me to her embrace. It was warm, comforting. I felt tears stinging my eyes. "How come you didn't tell us you'll be coming? We should have been the ones to pick you!" she added, looking at me straight in the eyes. She was indeed my aunt. The sister of my mom.

"I can't wait, Aunt Molly. It's just really murky out there, having no one to be with me. But really, I loved the ride though it's really nicking my head out," I said, trying to mask the jolting my throat was doing.

Aunt Molly heaved a great sigh, closing her eyes. Then she turned to me again. "Well, here you are now. We can't do anything about it. Besides, you're still my loveliest niece." She giggled. I did. "Come on. I know you're tired and disheveled and oh, Marguerite! If only I've been you're mom, I would take the stuffing out of you!" She sniggered as she led me to the table. "Who am I, in any way, to do that?"

"Who else would you be? My mom's loveliest and tiniest sister."

We both laughed. She took a toast and started to butter it for me. I sat awkwardly on the wooden stool and thought of the day ahead. The sun had finally risen to its half and it deepened my loneliness. It would be the first day that I would spend alone. I missed my Mom and Dad. Badly. And it hurt so fathomlessly that I wouldn't want to see the great golden ball kiss the blissful sky.

"Dear, I know what you're going through. And I'm just here for you. We are." Aunt Molly's cool voice broke the cascade of thoughts and feelings in my mind…and soul.

I was stifled by a deep sigh of indifference. It hurt so much. Tears began to pour right down my cold face. They were too freezing. I wanted warmth. Warmth that Aunt gave me. I thought I would be all right, but the zeal seemed to melt the petrified emotions deep down. And it pierced even more.

How long Aunt Molly had held me snugly, I didn't know. But one inept noise out the dim corner of my mind made me jerk.

It was just after I had poured all my pain had I glimpsed a distorted image of two boys and two girls, all had red hair except one of the girls, who had bushy brown. Tears were still brimming my weary eyes and so I didn't realize who they were until I had wiped my face off. My heart leapt with joy as I exchanged looks with Fred, George, and Ginny―three of my beloved cousins. We didn't blink. Nor moved. After a minute's pause, they all trotted toward me and enveloped me with their tightest, most heart-warming hug. Did Fred and George really embrace me? But really, I was overwhelmed.

"Marguerite, how are you?" Ginny asked shakily.

"Of course she's not fine!" Fred retorted, and I was shocked.

"Really, Ginny, I guess your senses need exercise," George added.

"A lot of exercise. Want to try?" And then Fred took something out of his robe that looked like a candy. "Marguerite, this is one of our…finest delicacies."

"Eye-Opener mints," George proudly announced, brandishing another right to my eyes. "Only for three knuts."

There was a sudden bang. Sparks flew high into the air, and instead of two, a dozen of Fred and George's mints landed on Aunt Molly's shuddering hand. She looked dangerously outraged. "HAVE I NOT TOLD YOU TO NEVER―NEVER―SHOW ME THESE INANE PRODUCTS OF YOURS?" she wheezed through gritted teeth. "_ACCIO! ACCIO! ACCIO!_ " And with another flick of her wand, everything the twins were hiding landed on the dust bin.

It might have been most probably because of all the racket down the kitchen that footsteps rushing downstairs echoed through the cold silence that had followed the fleet of anger. Four figures appeared in the dark kitchen, and now I could see them well. One was my uncle, Mr. Arthur Weasley, tall and balding, my other cousin, Percy, smug and conceited with his brother Ron, gangling and blushing, and the last one, whom I didn't know, was a boy with round glasses, jet-black hair, and green eyes.

"Marguerite! Oh, dear!" Uncle Arthur exclaimed, shattering the utter silence. He walked toward me and patted my head. "You should've told us that you'll be coming, not that you flew all by yourself all the way from France!"

"She's from France?" came a rather fidgety sort of voice, making me glance above Uncle Arthur's shoulder. And there I saw Ron elbowing the four-eyed boy right at the ribs.

"Ssshhhh!" whispered Ron, although I heard it so clearly. The boy massaged his ribs and made a face, and I caught his gaze, felt a sudden unsteady jolt at the pit of my stomach, making me blush. I quickly looked away. It was then that I realized that I looked so much as a laughingstock. Of course I was. Imagine flying from France to Britain? Stupid, isn't it?

My musing suddenly lingered away as Uncle Arthur patted me again. "By the way, Marguerite, I'd like to introduce to you…" he began, and turned to the two strangers Ron was standing with, "Hermione Granger."

The girl with the bushy brown hair took a step forward and I stood up, met her, and shook hands. I smiled. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Granger, I'm Marguerite Corneille," I said, beaming at her.

"A pleasure Ms. Corneille," she replied, beaming as wide as I was. She let go of me, and turned to the four-eyed boy who was peering at me in a most scrutinizing way.

Uncle Arthur cleared his throat loudly and continued, "And of course, Harry Potter."

There was a sudden fleet of warmth across my face. Was he really Harry Potter? Anyway, I just didn't want to look as though I had never been this shocked as any moment of my life before. It was just that it was indeed surprising to find myself face-to-face with The Boy Who Lived. But don't get me wrong, I wasn't a fan.

Wanting not to give a wrong notion of my true reaction, I gave an impassive smile and offered a hand. "Oh, it's Harry Potter, The boy Who Lived. Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter."

He gazed at me in probable awe, perhaps it had been the way I spoke, a rather indifferent tone. Gingerly, he walked toward me, took my hand, and said, "Same here, Ms. Corneille." He let go, making me blush a little bit more, as he flashed a smile.

"All right, everyone, be seated and we'll have breakfast," Aunt Molly announced. We did as she said.

At the table, everyone seemed so subdued (especially Fred and George who had been knitting their eyebrows together and crossing their arms around their chests). I myself felt like having to keep quiet, not until Uncle Arthur commenced a conversation.

"Now, Harry, Hermione," he said, looking at the two, "this niece of ours is the daughter of the younger sister of Molly. They had been in France since Celine had married the French wizard Pepito Corneille."

"Excuse me, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione suddenly. "Marguerite, why have you gone all the way from France to come to England?"

I knew she never intended to offend me or anything, but I was hurt. Everyone seemed to notice, even Hermione, for they all went rigid. Casting my eyes down my clenched fists on my lap, I swallowed and replied, "They've been murdered." I closed my eyes before the fresh pool of tears flow all down my face.

"I-I-I am sorry to hear that, Marguerite. I shouldn't have asked. You shouldn't have bothered to answer. Sorry," she murmured apologetically.

I sniffed. "It's all right. At least you know." Plastering a crooked smile, I looked at her. She did the same.

"Anyways, have you indeed flown from France to Britain?" Harry asked hopefully.

Trying to fight back a snigger, I nodded. His face warped.

"What's your broom?"

"A Firebolt."

His face contracted even more. Ron chuckled. "he's a Quidditch player, you see," he whispered. "He also has a Firebolt."

"Oh, I see. Harry, what are you playing?" I asked, suddenly struck with interest.

Harry sighed and said, "I'm the team Seeker."

That was really fantastic. Of all the team players, being the Seeker is the most taxing task. I was only a Chaser in Beauxbatons. And Harry Potter was a Seeker? He was starting to get into me. What was I thinking… or rather, feeling? Believing I would never meet this wonder boy, all I thought of him for the past years was a bigheaded tad too pleased of his victory against the Dark Lord. But as I now could see, he was no arrogant young man. He was the very opposite.

Right after breakfast, Aunt Molly bewitched the plates to wash all by themselves and the table to be clean and proper. Fred and George were still avoiding their mother's eyes, although I knew that Aunt Molly had already gotten over the argument. The twins along Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny huddled by the back door while Percy just went away to climb the zigzagging staircase, probably to finish another of his reports for the Ministry. I came to the group.

"Marguerite, we'll be going to the pitch. Let's play Quidditch," Fred said after a moment of silence.

"Oh, yes, we'll come too," said Ginny, elbowing Hermione gently, who rapidly made a surly expression.

Ron twitched his eyebrows. "Oh, come on, Ginny. You're not supposed to play Quidditch."

"Why can't she?" I retorted. "She's still human. Besides, I'm not going without a female company."

George turned to the other boys and sighed. "Oh, all right." Ginny and I giggled, while Hermione scowled, almost looking as though she had the same faces of the boys.

We then took our brooms and walked to the pitch. It was surrounded by a fence and apple trees abloom with red, ripe fruits. I took one from a low-hanging branch, mounted my broom, and yelled, "Hey, George, pitch this!", throwing the apple at him. He made an excellent swerve and Ron caught it. He threw it to Fred and as the fruit soared high up to the air, I directed my broom to where it was going, sped up, but then Harry blocked my way. He was indeed a good flyer, and it was Firebolt against Firebolt. Doing my best to keep him out of way, I noticed that the apple was going down. Making an about-face, I sped up to the fruit's direction. Harry was just tailing me and I accelerated even more. He was too good. But I knew I was better. Then hastily, he came in front of me just when I didn't expect him to, making me feel the notion that he would have the apple first. And I was correct. He clapped his two hands against the fruit and soared high up in the air, just few feet above me, raising the red, distorted apple.

He shone differently from this position where I was suspended.

#

**Well, that's it. First chapter. Kindly give a nice review. I'll appreciate it much! Salamat!**

**-four-eyed- 0-0**


	2. Chapter 2

**TwilightForever93: thank you for the review. :)**

**Yay! I've been really busy lately, being a secretary (excluding the school projects). So, here it is now. Chapter two! Read and review! 0-0**

**Chapter Two - The Hogwarts Express**

"That was an excellent game, Harry." it was all that escaped from my mouth when we reached the Burrow. He was still catching his breath, and all of us as well, since we had raced from the pitch. I was the first to reached the finish line, though.

"You're a good runner," he said, finally gathering his poise.

I snickered. "Of course I am. That's why I've been a Chaser."

He turned to me and smiled.

* * *

It had been two weeks since I had arrived at the Burrow. Everything had been well, and I reckon I had grown more fond of Harry than I imagined. It was a weird feeling, an exotic, newfound emotion. I couldn't remember anything as this feeling before, only a lingering unfelt memory. All I knew for that time was that Harry was not just a friend anymore.

The night before the first day of school (I had been accepted at Hogwarts, with the help of Uncle Arthur and Dumbledore who had empathized with me for what indeed happened in France), everyone was making his or her own racket in the living room. Percy was having a heated row with Ron, insisting that the latter had taken his hands on Percy's unfinished report, not knowing that it had been Fred and George who had bewitched the lost item into a quill. Uncle Arthur was having a discussion with Aunt Molly (who seemed too busy to listen, thus he had been following her) about the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge's argument with Dumbledore regarding You-Know-Who's return. Ginny was darning her Hogwarts robe. Hermione was sprawled on a mat, petting Crookshanks, whose bottlebrush tail wiggled and swayed in pleasure. Pigwidgeon, the minute owl of Ron, kept flying here and there, bumping at everyone and everything. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, while I was seated on one of the patched sofas, sketching the scene.

I decided to leave but Harry sat beside me just as when I was about to stand up. We looked at each other and he laid his eyes upon the sketch I had just done. I was blushing.

"You like this, don't you?" he asked. I nodded. "You're an artist. This is wonderful."

Flushing, I thanked him.

"Anyway, Marguerite, can I ask you something?" he continued.

"What is it?"

"Who do you think could have murdered your parents?" He couldn't look me in the eyes.

I was a little bit shied, a little bit tongue-tied, a little bit of... every single emotion you can think of. Well, yes, I was a little bit of angry at him, I would be honest,

"Why do you ask, Harry?" I tried to say pointedly, only that my throat didn't allow me to.

"It's just that I reckon everything that has been going on has one cause."

I swallowed. "And that is?"

He looked at me for a split second and then to the others who hadn't noticed us. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to me and said, "_Voldemort_."

It was a rocket of sparks. Huge, destructive sparks. "Harry! Of all the people, why did you? Why do you?" I gasped.

Harry took a long pause, and peered at me in the eyes. "As I have told anyone and everyone else before, there's no exception to speak his name."

I was awed. Really awed. Harry Potter was indeed a hero. I myself feared to speak the Dark Lord's name. And perhaps, Harry, who had gone enough trials to prove himself a hero, had every ounce of privilege and power to call You-Know-Who by his very relentless name. That name of the person who had killed thousands of innocent lives, wizard or Muggle. The person who had taken Harry's parents… and my parents as well.

"So my assumption's indeed true. He's had enough." He was shaky. Beads of teeny, dew-like excretions welled up on his forehead. I wanted to wipe them away.

Next morning, I thought we were all set. It truly was only a thought for the moment I woke up, the Weasleys were having the most outrageous racket they had ever done this summer. And I was too tired and (ironically) too excited to go to school that I needed never mind them. Instead, I took my own way down the zigzagging staircase with my trunk and out the Burrow to the dimly-lit sky. It was just like the morning I had gone here. And now I would be leaving.

There was a new car at the drive, a secondhand Volvo which seemed like no ordinary car. From the moment we all got inside, it was so roomy that ten people had managed to have themselves enough or rather a spacious seat. There was nothing else that any of us (except Percy) to complain about. Even Fred and George had been in good terms again with their mother a week or so from now.

All the way the King's Cross Station, I just talked and giggled along Ginny and Hermione, who became closer to me in a short span of time for the whole summer. Even platform nine and three quarters made me giggle as I vanished from the wary eyes of the Muggles to see a scarlet steam engine billowing clear, clean smoke. The twins helped me load my trunk in the train and t=Hermione dragged me to the compartment where Ron and Harry had already gone, seated comfortably in excitement for the ride about to take place.

I sat beside Hermione, near the window. Harry was across me and seemed to think more deeply than myself. I turned to the window and watched Aunt Molly waving at our compartment and Uncle Arthur, simply nodding. The engine started to roll, the train had moved, and we were going away, approaching Hogwarts closer and closer by every moment I could reflect upon. The other Weasleys had finally disappeared as we rounded the curve, finally leaving the four of us to ourselves.

The rest of the trip wasn't that grand, although I must admit I had a lot of fun playing Exploding Snap with the three of them. Fred, George, and Ginny even joined us after three games, apparently taken by the noises we were making in our compartment, which was just next to theirs.

When the plump witch had appeared at our compartment door, I took pumpkin pasties, Berty Bott's Every Flavor Beans and pumpkin juice. I actually wanted to taste everything and anything but I didn't want to be taken as either an ignorant or a glutton. Besides, I had enough of the beans when I actually had a booger-flavored one, making Harry, Ron, and Hermione choke on their own food.

We were having the time of our lives. But that wasn't to be implied for long. The compartment door suddenly slid open in the middle of a zesty and giggly conversation. Only then that I realized that my three companions had stopped laughing, and I was the only one who hadn't.

I shut my mouth and shifted uncomfortably on my seat as embarrassment dawned upon me.

Good thing was, they all seemed not to notice for they all had been as still as though they were statues. I finally let my gaze drift to the door and saw three persons who I had never seen before. A boy with white-blond hair, which was perfectly combed and tamed (very much unlike Harry's), pale skin, and a smug face made more devilish by the smirk he wore across it was leering at us. Two big, as though blown up cronies flanked him on either side, and were trying to wear the same intense smirk of the former, however, it gave them both stupid looks on their huge, fat faces. Nice try, really.

I wanted to laugh.

But then I noticed that the pale boy was eyeing Harry and Ron painfully. I couldn't tell whether the other two looked at them too. Nonetheless, I needed never know. I stole a glance at Harry who was eyeing him as painful as well.

"So, here we meet again, Pothead, Weasel, and Mudblood, my beloved three." That was what had broken the silence, in which the trio had stood up, Harry and Ron clenching their fists. I copied them, although I still didn't get everything. I ought to support them, anyways. All I knew was that this stranger was getting into their nerves, as well as mine (only a little bit).

The one who had spoken appeared to finally notice my presence for he broke his locked gaze at Harry. "Oh, and may I ask what your name is, miss?"

The others all turned to me and I flushed savagely.

"Don't you talk to her, Malfoy," Ron, spat, raising his fist. So, he was Malfoy.

Malfoy laughed an overbearing laugh. "Weasel, you don't have the right to speak to me like that." He looked at me. "What do you have to do with her?"

Ron took a step toward him. "For your information, you bighead, she is my cousin."

Malfoy exchanged looks with his bodyguards and burst into jeers. "Oh, Weasley, you must be joking! How could such a funny-looking family like yours have a much fine-looking relative?"

I blushed a hundred times even more. Was I really that beautiful? All I knew was that I had oak-brown hair and blue, round eyes. And that was all the people who had known me had said to be lovely. Or maybe I just missed others? I was flattered, though. Forgive me, Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur.

Ron was furious. He was about to fling himself on the boy when Harry and Hermione had pulled him by his shirt.

"Mr. Malfoy," I finally had said, shivering. "Will you just please leave us alone? We don't want any inane racket in here, not when we haven't even reached Hogwarts."

"Oh, Marguerite, don't you ask him any favor. It'll be the worst thing you can ever do at times like this," Harry had managed to say, despite Ron's efforts to free himself and charge at Malfoy.

"So, your name's Marguerite." It was Malfoy, sneering malevolently. "Marguerite what to be exact?"

I didn't know what to say.

"Well, if you would please, I'd like to introduce―"

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, still rummaging ways to escape from Harry's and Hermione's grasp. I thought I had seen his sweater tearing off a little bit.

Malfoy shook his head mockingly. "Anyways, I'm Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy―"

"―the Death Eater!"

Malfoy had snapped. The smirk he had worn vanish through gritted teeth. "Don't you know how to shut up, Weasley?" He thundered.

I should do something. "Oh, Mr. Malfoy, please go away now."

He turned to me. "That's nice, Ms. Marguerite," he said, trying to smile a true smile, "I'll just tell you who my companions are. They're Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. "

"―other sons of Death Eaters! You filthy, goril―"

"Oh, Ron, please, shut up!" Hermione had shouted.

"I guess we've got to go, Ms. Marguerite. I'll see you sooner than you think, " Malfoy had finally announced, giving me an odd smirk. It was breathtaking.

And the compartment door closed.

Harry and Hermione at last let go of Ron.

"That's it. He's made it once again." Ron was massaging his knuckles as he sat flung himself on his seat.

"What do you mean?" I asked nervously.

"He's known someone to take the stuffing out of us."

I looked at each of them anxiously.

**That's it. Sorry if it's not that long and took me a long while. Review please! T.y.!**

**~four-eyed 0-0**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Been really busy... So here it is now!**

**Read and Review!**

**CHAPTER THREE – The Sorting Hat**

The following moment after my first sight of Draco Malfoy had been utterly quiet. Harry and Ron seemed a little bit mad at me. There was an odd ringing in my ears as though they had just struck a large bell right at each. I waited and waited, but they didn't say a single word. Was it really that hard to tell me what I had done that they should be acting as cold as icebergs there right across me? Good thing I still had Hermione, who had been blabbering by my side, trying to have a more sensible topic to converse about, but still, they didn't mind.

"Ron, I thought we've been in good terms and that you'll be talking about Hogwarts on the way!"

My sentence rang in the compartment, making Ron glimpse a look at me.

I sighed, "Oh, come on Ron, I still don't understand why we should be like this. It's just deeply stupid."

"Of course it's stupid. You're stupid. How come you were flattered when we, your very family, was made fun of?" He glared piercingly at me.

There was a pause. "Goodness, forgive me. I know that it is rude, how I felt, but I'm still human. It wasn't implied as though I intended to. I even regret that I had flushed so much!"

Harry looked at me. "It's not just what you think, Marguerite. We didn't like it that you seemed a bit taken."

"I? Taken! You've got to be joking, Harry. It is never as that!" Laughing, I thought for a moment. "Well, indeed, I was sort of stunned. That Malfoy was really bold that even I, who have been given enough information by yourselves throughout the summer about just how a moron he is, would be in fact, surprised. I mean, Malfoy's never done anything to me _yet_," (Harry and Ron shifted on their seats.) "and he just seemed _too_ elite to be that person you've been talking about. Just by first sight, really. His tongue is too sharp."

My cousin heaved a deep sigh and shrugged. "Oh, Marguerite. If only you weren't my cousin, I wouldn't be that easy."

I smiled. "Of course you're easy. You're my blushing cousin, anyway."

He did blush. We all laughed.

By the time we had reached a stop, Harry opened the door and let Hermione and I out first. Bunches of students huddled around the corners and were talking with such noise as that of some excited first years. I felt the very same with these newbies, ready for my first sight of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Firs' years! C'mon!"

A huge shadow dawned upon us all, making us look up. A rather half-giant with long shaggy hair and beetle-black eyes was looking around, as though in search for someone. He paused at us, peering at me gently. I was shaking.

"Ron, is this yer cousin?" he asked thoughtfully.

The one addressed nodded. "Yeah, Hagrid. She's Marguerite Corneille."

The half-giant smiled at me brightly and his eyes sparkled. "Oh, well then, gotta go wi' me," he addressed. "Ye prepare fer the sortin', Ms. Corneille."

I looked at all my companions nervously. I knew about what the sorting was all about, but I feared I might be thrown elsewhere but Gryffindor.

"Take it easy, Marguerite. You'll be in Gryffindor," Ginny said, holding my hand.

"Yeah. Or else, I'll force you to eat this Eye-Opener," announced George, elbowing Fred at the ribs, who quickly added, "We'll do everything to make you have one, even if it should cost another threat from filthy Filch." And they laughed. All of us laughed.

Rubeus Hagrid and I made our way to the castle on a boat (the older students took the carriages), chattering. I reckoned my weight just added to the difficulty the boat had had for the past years it had taken Hagrid through the castle by crossing the lake. He was no ordinary human, I knew. And he was the gamekeeper of Hogwarts and a former Care of Magical Creatures teacher as well. Ron really just had a big mouth that he had told me everything I should and should not know.

Upon reaching the castle, Hagrid knocked at the oak front doors and met with a fearsome-looking witch wearing emerald-green robes and a tall black hat and whispered to her. I knew that this was Professor Minerva McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house (Ron had told me, again). She really looked like what my cousin told me, and her lips seemed that they can indeed become as thin as the thinnest line I could imagine.

"Well then, Hagrid, you leave her with me."

Hagrid winked at me and went away, leaving me alone with the first years and Professor McGonagall. "Now, students, come after me."

McGonagall led us into the cavernous hall of the castle and through the spiral staircase. Many first years "ooohed" and "aaahed" as we came upon another hall, where pearly white and hovering human forms were chattering ever louder than any of these first years. One of them was perhaps the Hufflepuff ghost, the Fat Friar (as Ron said, he looked like a monk), the other, the Gryffindor's, Nearly Headless Nick (who wore that ruff around his neck to prevent his head to dangle off with his uncut inch of skin), and from far was the Slytherin's (the only one from afar, he didn't bother to have a little talk, but just leered at us), the Bloody Baron. The first two talked about the new students and one who would be attending as a fifth year.

"Well, Nick, this child really needs our support. How forsaken she is. It's nice to note that there's good old Dumbledore to welcome her at Hogwarts," the Fat Friar said in a tone of both mercy and joy.

"That is so true, Friar. I do hope she'd find it indeed nice at Hogwarts," said Nearly Headless Nick. He then looked as if he had just heard us enter the hall. He and the Fat Friar swooped down at us with animated expressions. The first years, once again, giggled, awestruck.

"See you in Hufflepuff!" the monk said, waving at us. "Better be in Gryffindor!" Nearly Headless Nick announced, dancing in the air. Some students took their way to the Bloody Baron who seemed too glad just about how he magnetized them.

"Students!" The party ended too soon for them to notice me. That I was that fifth year. Thank goodness there was Professor McGonagall. Nick and the Friar went away as soon as she had called attention, though some students couldn't take their eyes off them.

McGonagall cleared her throat and peered at us through her square spectacles. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This is yet another year to come and we are all glad to note that another flock of children possessing the magical blood and talent would come to this institution made to enhance their talents. And as a year starts, _new _students are sorted into the four Hogwarts houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. All of these houses have their own colorful histories and not one had not produced a successful wizard or witch. Your houses will serve as your home, here you meet with your second family and spend your time with them as much as you want to. Now, if you please excuse me, I'll be leaving and be back at a few moments," she said. "It would be nice if you smarten yourselves a bit. Please stay quiet," and she left.

The noise had commenced once more though the professor had just addressed us not to. I felt more nervous than ever had. This was it. The sorting.

McGonagall returned just as when I decided to take into consideration to tidy my wavy hair. She shepherd us out the hall, through the corridor, and inside the Great Hall, alight with floating candles, where the students waited, seated around four tables, from the far left stood the Gryffindors'. I swallowed nervously that I didn't notice McGonagall had went to me.

"Ms. Corneille, you just wait until I call your name. You'd be the last to be called."

I swallowed the bigger lump that had just accumulated in my driest throat.

The Sorting Hat, finally placed atop the stool, suddenly moved, a slit grazed at its middle, and broke into a song I half heard and understood with nasty and jittery thoughts aloft in my mind. There was a great applause right after.

McGonagall started to call names of eleven-year-old boys and girls, eager to be sorted into the different houses. Name after name, as the older students jeered as a newbie joined their table, I took another swallow until I had had no more even of my drool to come out from the glands of my mouth.

"And now, a student that our school and headmaster Dumbledore had wholeheartedly accepted in the call of need, a former student from one of the greatest witchcraft schools in Europe and in the world, from Beauxbatons, CORNEILLE, MARGUERITE!"

That was it. The hall had gone coldly still and I knew everyone was curious to see what house I would be in. I scurried to the wooden stool set at the platform, McGonagall holding the patched and frayed Sorting Hat. As I sat on the chair, I took a half-second glance at Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys. It was a quick, swift one, for at the very moment I thought time had stopped, the Hat was speaking right into my ears and… mind.

_"Please let me be in Gryffindor... Please let me be in Gryffindor… Gryffindor... Gryffindor... Gryffindor…"_

_"Gryffindor, dear? Why not in Hufflepuff? Ravenclaw? Or Slytherin? You're not bad… Brains, yes, I can see… Has a good heart, too, indeed good… Ah, and a nice pine to have the truth behind a trauma unfolded… Why in Gryffindor, dear?"_

_"The Weasleys... and Harry... and Hermione… They are my new family… I'm not asking for anything else… Just please, please let me be in Gryffindor… Please…"_

_"Well, if you please, better be in ― "_

"―GRYFFINDOR!"

The sound was made so clear and so jocund. I took the Hat off my head and tears started to pool at the corner of my eyes. Hurrying to the table, orbs followed me. Ginny had embraced me when I was still meters away from where they sat. The moment was breathtaking. The Gryffindors had clapped and cheered, "WE GOT CORNEILLE! WE GOT CORNEILLE!" as though that was really something to note. Harry and Ron joined Hermione who had run over Ginny and I, still in tears, and patted me at the head. I was in Gryffindor.

I was in Gryffindor. It was nice to note that I wouldn't have to eat one of Fred and George's Eye-Opener.

**Like it or despise it... Thank you!**

**~ 0-0 four-eyed**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four! Chapter four! Chapter four! R&R 3**

**CHAPTER FOUR - Distress**

Hermione and Ginny took me to the seat between the two of them.

"Hi," a sandy-haired boy greeted just as soon as I reached the table. I smiled at him. "I'm Seamus Finnigan, a fifth year."

"Marguerite Corneille, Mr. Finnigan." We shook hands.

He turned to another boy by his side. "This is Dean Thomas," he said. I smiled at Dean as well.

Hermione elbowed me at the ribs. "Marguerite, this is Neville Longbottom."

I turned to the chubby boy across the one who had spoken and lent a hand. "I'm Marguerite Corneille, formerly from Beauxabtons. Nice to meet you, Mr. Longbottom."

He looked at me and hesitated. He turned to Hermione, as though asking for help.

"Oh, come on, Neville, she's new. You've got to."

I cleared my throat loudly. "Neville," I began, "I do hope I do not seem a threat or a monster at all that you'd be acting like this." He shifted on his seat. I chortled. "I'm Marguerite Corneille, Mr. Neville Longbottom."

He reached for my outstretched hand and shook it. "It is my pleasure as well, Ms. Corneille." He took his hand away immediately.

I chuckled again. "Hermione, you should've told me how a fine boy Neville is," I said. Although Neville was _not_ really to be told as fine, I couldn't help but grow fond of him at a short period of time. "I'd like to chat with you more often, Neville." He smiled sheepishly.

Fred spoke, pointing a boy with dreadlocks. "This is Lee Jordan, also in the seventh year." I turned to the one introduced and took his hand.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggled excitedly as they were acquainted with me.

"How come we haven't seen you here last year?" Lavender began.

"Of course we would not. She's just fourteen, then," said George.

Lavender pouted.

"Marguerite, why have you gone to Britain when you've already studied in France?" Parvati asked.

I knew that I didn't want this question be asked.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore announced, just before anyone can speak up. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. It is another year to watch out for much in line, another year for the older students to prove themselves again. It is yet another year to meet most of the friends we've missed throughout the vacation, and as well be acquainted with new faces. This year shall be another to mark the school's colorful history… and new changes are part of it." Dumbledore looked at us all. "Our substitute Care of Magical Creatures teacher, _Professor_ Wilhelmina _Grubbly_-_Plank_, shall be taking her place in the faculty as Professor Rubeus Hagrid takes a temporary leave." He paused. "And our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Dolores Umbridge."

There was a gush of whispers as we all turned to the (as they said; the job had never been taken by the same person for more than a year) unfamiliar person seated on the high table. Now she looked like no ordinary witch. Instead of wearing dark robes, she was wrapped in pink ones. It took me few moments to consider every person's uniqueness, and as respect, I should never think of her as a crinkly little ball clothed in towels of crinkly pink. No. I shouldn't.

"Professor Dolores Umbridge is assigned ― "

"Thank you for your introduction, headmaster," the crinkled woman butted in, which I took annoying, and perhaps, everyone else had. She stood up (and I realized she had everything she wore pink) and walked towards the podium, turned her head this and that, smiled a rather unenthusiastic smile and said, "It is an honor for me to be appointed as a teacher here in this institution and be greeted with smiles plastered on your bright faces ― "

"Yeah, like that happened," said Fred and George, into which Umbridge took a pause to look at them pregnantly.

"The Ministry of Magic has always wanted the education be of greater priority for the young wizards and witches of the age. Although each headmaster had greatly contributed to this historical school," she turned to Dumbledore, who nodded, "progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged." I, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks. "Let us preserved what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected, and prove practices that ought to be prohibited." She giggled an irritating giggle and walked back to her seat.

Dumbledore clapped, and we joined in, although indeed not eagerly.

"What is going on?" Harry asked, just as Dumbledore had resumed speaking.

Hermione swallowed. "It just means that the Ministry's interfering the school." I agreed.

In the common room, everyone appeared to be too busy discussing what Umbridge had just announced that I just huddled along Ginny and Hermione on a corner.

"The Dark Lord's not back, you heard me?" Seamus said to Neville impatiently.

"Well then, why should the Ministry be appointing that Umbridge to teaching?" Lee retorted.

"You didn't listen, did you?"

"Of course we did. And it was made clear that the Ministry's up to no good, treating us like we need their lies," Ron spat.

Dean tutted. "It's for our own good. And not for anybody else's."

"The Dark Lord's back! Why can't you just accept the truth and prepare yourselves?" Harry finally said.

"You're lying, Harry," Seamus said. "Trying to have another heroic act, aren't you?"

"No I'm not! Voldemort's gone to killing once again!"

Seamus laughed. I hated the sarcasm. "Yeah, and how can you prove that? Not that story about Diggory once again!"

"Seamus, you've never seen him kill. You've never experienced how it was to have your family and friend be killed with your two eyes right at them!"

"I have and will never see Voldemort murder for he is nowhere!"

"Of course you will!" I screamed. The common room stood silent. "I am sorry to be bigmouthed, I know I am just new, but he's back, ready to bring chaos. I still remember…" Tears brimmed in my eyes.

"Shush, Marguerite. Don't," Hermione said, tugging at my robes.

Lavender uttered, "What do you mean?"

"No, she won't." Ron had gone to me.

This was it. "I will." They all turned to me, faces ashen. "I have gone here to Britain to escape the distress France had caused me. It was an ordeal I ― and we ―thought to never have after Harry Potter had risen from his near death…" My voice shook, my knees trembled. There were whispers. "T-t-the very night I had went home to see Mom and Dad after a day with friends... I-I-I never thought I would be seeing those snake-like eyes… those slits of a nose… that harmful omen of a face… c-c-casting his wand right into my mother's tear-stained face… into my father's manly heart…. That I would be witnessing my father shake as though he were more like a tad clinging to my Mom for support…. That my ever brave mother would be screaming frantically at the sight of me at the door, vulnerable to any of the intruder's next move… " My voice trailed off, Ginny placed her hand on my shoulder, trying to stop me. "T-t-that my Mom and Dad… of all persons... shall be enveloped with a flash of blinding green light, that I shall be running away… in search of someone to ask help from… only to find my parents' bodies not breathing… t-t-that they are… that they are dead!"

I broke down and fell on my knees. All I could hear was the painful thud of my heart, the throbbing of my lungs, short of breath. "I should have not been here if they were still alive. I should have not been telling you that the Dark ― _Voldemort_ ― is back!"

Everyone stood shaken, looking at me unbelievingly.

It felt better.

**Sorry if it isn't that nice, I myself don't like it much**

**~0-0 four-eyed**


	5. Chapter 5

**Fifth chapter! R&R (do I seem speechless?)**

**CHAPTER FIVE - The Human Curse**

As the night approached its end, several Gryffindors had climbed to their dormitories, preparing for the first day of school ahead. In contrary, I, Harry, Ron, and Hermione preferred to stay in the common room and sit around the dying fire. The racket that had died about three hours ago still lingered in my mind, and surely, in theirs as well.

"Really, Marguerite, you should've not told them," said Harry in a tired voice.

There was nothing to say that could lighten the remnants of my outburst. Having been a new student and giving them a wrong impression disturbed me a lot, although we made up as fast as I had broken down. But what else could I do? I couldn't imagine persons as Seamus and Dean disputing the mere fact that the vicious Dark Lord had returned, hewing his chances to commence his reign again.

"Too many things are happening. We can never tell how fast our choices can take us to the farthest point of escaping or facing him ― Voldemort," I said, trying to suppress the dark image taking shape in my mind.

Hermione moved. "Marguerite's right, Harry. Change is being too fast. Dolores Umbridge is a great threat to Hogwarts whether she continues or not to do what the Ministry wants her to."

"This is just all stupid, all, everything! I reckon the Ministry's been spreading more lies than truths. Just look," said Ron, throwing a copy of _the Daily Prophet_ into Harry's lap.

"_Potter ―Plotter?_" I read. Harry heaved a great sigh and pitched the paper into the fire, lighting then the flames anew, his glasses glancing the bright orange hues. "No more am I surprised," I uttered.

"Same here," Harry replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "They'll never listen. Wanting not to cause an anxiety attack, they're making the situation so much worse."

The next morning, I found myself waking up with the hangings of my four-poster slightly opened as Hermione's bushy hair popped into the opening. The whole dormitory was silent, and I thought she didn't notice that I had stirred, but thought better of it when she craned her neck to smile at me.

"Good morning, Hermione," I said, straightening myself and trying to fix my tousled hair as well.

She laid a giant spell book at my bed and replied, "Good morning too. I waited for you to wake up so that we'll go down to breakfast together."

That was really nice. I changed my clothes and the two of us journeyed to the Great Hall for my first breakfast at Hogwarts. Harry and Ron were still not around, although the other Gryffindor boys already were. Hermione and I took our seats and began to eat.

As I was buttering my toast, a pale and white-blond-haired form emerged across me.

"Good morning, Ms. Marguerite Corneille, how's breakfast?" he drawled lazily.

I glanced at Hermione who merely arched an eyebrow.

"Well and good, Mr. Malfoy," I answered, taking a bite of my toast.

Malfoy suddenly sat on the empty seat in front of me.

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione blurted, as though greatly offended. "Why are you sitting on that?"

Malfoy sneered. "I see no problem at all to take a seat at the Gryffindor table, Mudblood."

"You better cut your tongue out, Mr. Malfoy. The day's too blissful for you to spoil our good mood," I butted irritatedly.

He chortled malevolently. "Too quick there, Ms. Corneille. You've given me a nice pang. Mind you, hanging out with riffraff like Granger, Potter, and Weasley will have you in the dust bin," he drawled, a steely glint in his silver eyes. "Too good as you are, sensible persons choose their friends."

And he dashed away out of thin air just as when Harry and Ron appeared at the doors.

"Morning," Hermione and I greeted, into which the two of them positively smiled.

Ron shook his head and yawned. "Is the day too lovely, cousin?"

"No, I object. The Dracula has just spoiled a bit of it."

Harry gestured for me to pass him the marmalade, whereas I did as he wished. He might have been still up hours after we decided to sleep for unintentionally, he caressed my hand as he was yawning, making me grow redder than any of the Weasleys' hair.

I quickly took my hand and placed it on my lap. Thank goodness he didn't notice at all.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was the first lesson for the day, and it made the four of us feel lower than last night in the start-of-term banquet as we walked off to class.

It was nice to note that Umbridge wasn't there yet, and that Hermione and I sat together, peacefully watching the fun our classmates were having. Some of the boys magicked a paper bird to fly high up the air, others laughed as theirs landed badly at other's faces. Everything was well until the birds burned out of thin air, signaling that the crinkly woman in her pink tweed and shoes had arrived.

She greeted us, and so did we, impotently. "To start, I would like distribute the course books you would be using for this whole year," she said, conjuring yellow books, thinnest of all the books I had seen, to land upon us. _Defense Against the Dark Arts for Beginners._

Hermione scanned the pages hurriedly as whispers travelled around the room.

"Children, listen to me, please," Umbridge said, and the chatter died down. She giggled. "The Ministry had been watching how this school hold this particular lesson for the past years. And as to our observations, change must be taken into consideration. Thus, we are encouraging academic rather than practical learning."

"But Professor, we've learned far from what these books have inside!" Hermione, exclaimed, aghast. "All the hexes… all the spells…. We've gone through grindylows, and through boggarts ― "

"Silence!" Umbridge said, calming down just as when we all thought that she would snap. Speaking in her deliberately soft voice, she continued, "Education is not achieved just by practicing spells, and hexes, and going out into the world to face magical creatures for trouble…. And the Ministry wants to put an end to these absurd credence."

"Indeed, Professor. But now that the Dark Lord's back, how can ― "

Umbridge peered at me painfully. She walked toward our table. "I beg your pardon, Ms. Corneille? I didn't realize that you are some meddlesome and runaway witch seeking shelter from this peaceful school…. Well, there's just good old Dumbledore to accept those... in need." Giggle. I frowned. "You have been told that an evil wizard is once again at large…" she said, pacing down the aisle, leaning toward Harry, "and this... is a _lie_."

"It's not a lie! I've seen it with my own eyes!" said Harry.

"Of course, it is Mr. Potter," Umbridge declared, walking toward the front again.

Harry was persistent. "So Cedric Diggory dropped dead on his own accord."

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident."

"No! I saw everything! Voldemort killed him!"

"ENOUGH!" Umbridge half yelled and half said, a broken chalk clattered on the floor. "Enough…. Detention, Mr. Potter, at my office…." Giggle again.

I heard Harry and Ron curse, dimly realizing that another came from my own throat.

**Hmmm... As always, muchas gracias!**

**~0-0 four-eyed**


	6. Chapter 6

**R&R!**

**CHAPTER SIX - Harry and Cho**

It had just been almost a week since Umbridge had arrived in the school and changes had been coming too infuriatingly fast. Professor Flitwick was conducting as we were singing, instead of flicking wands (Umbridge measured his height.). Professor Snape had banged Harry's and Ron's heads as they laughed silently when Umbridge had asked. "You've been aiming this job I am currently handling, is this true?" (Snape nodded.), "How come you've never had it?" (Snape was astounded and turned silent.) Umbridge had asked Professor Trelawney to give her a prediction ("You'll be facing a predicament… a nasty one," Trelawney had said, just before the woman in pink had gone away.) She seemed not _too _pleased.

The next day, students huddled as Professor Trelawney was having an emotional row with Umbridge. Trunks were packed, as though the bespectacled teacher was about to leave.

"Hogwarts has been my home…" the Divination teacher said, tears pouring all over her face.

Umbridge giggled once again. "And it doesn't need you anymore. This school deserves better."

"No, I am needed. I need Hogwarts…. The fates had long ago told me that I shall never leave this school!" Trelawney retorted, her misty voice turning to shivery.

The doors behind us opened, Dumbledore in his half-moon spectacles emerging. "Sibyll is not going anywhere."

Umbridge laughed. "Albus, I do not like this."

"And so do I, Dolores," Dumbledore replied, his tone a little different from the usual. "Minerva, take Sibyll into my office."

The one addressed did as he said; Trelawney, still crying, said, "Thank you so much, headmaster…. Thank you…."

The pink-coated woman trotted away, her nose high up in the air.

"Back to business, students," Dumbledore announced, and Hermione and I toddled to our next class. Just as when I looked around, Harry greeted my eyes, and alongside him was a female student who I knew by her beautiful face, but not by name. They were having a nice chat, and Harry's cheeks seemed red.

"Hermione, who is that?"

My companion turned to where I pointed. "It's Cho Chang, a sixth year from Ravenclaw," she replied, whispering, "Harry's crush since third year."

I swallowed. A stitch suddenly darted at my chest as my insides lurched. Goose bumps appeared on my skin.

"Let's go," I said, trying to cover up my upset.

The banning of use of spells was at length felt as though it were a poison running even through the pipelines of the school. Umbridge had been as well prohibiting Fred and George's products, improper wearing of uniforms (especially for the male students), and (although indeed impartial) publicity of romantic feelings.

Hermione was assaulted, she wanted to learn more, and so did we. It was no wonder that the grade school practices happening at Hogwarts was a drastic chaos ― those had never been thought to happen. I somehow regretted that I went all the way to Britain and left my beloved Beauxbatons to be a part of this horror.

"Harry, we've got to do something," Hermione said, one stormy night when only the four of us were left in the common room.

"What do you mean?" said Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What I mean is, we've got to find another way to learn enough. This is not what is supposed to be here at Hogwarts."

"Hermione, get straight to the point, will you?" Harry's voice was clear with fear.

"Let's practice by ourselves. Let's teach each other."

Harry was right. "No, we can't do that. What if Umbridge discovers us?"

"Then we'll be expelled. What's the problem with that?"

Ron was shivering. "What is really happening to you, Hermione?"

And so it was the start of the Dumbledore's Army. We practiced the curses we were supposed to practice, gave advices to each other, and had fun as we dueled for practice. However, I myself couldn't take it when Harry held Chang's wand hand to support it when she casts a hex. They were too ridiculously romantic. And as days passed by, I began to hate everything about Chang, even though I didn't completely understand why.

One session after class, Chang and I picked each other for Stunning practice. I didn't know what to do. If I hurt her, Harry would be thwarted. If I let her, I would be in the hospital wing. As the two of us clutched our wands, I looked around, from Ginny who smiled at me, whispering, "Put her off, Marguerite," from Ron who was red from her to chin, from Hermione who just nodded, telling me to calm down, and to Harry, who was watching Chang, and not me, with extreme anxiety. I was hurt, a sudden stomach jolt dazzled me. We both bowed.

"Three," Harry said, shivering, "two… one!"

"_Stupefy!_" I yelled, Chang, being late, was suddenly rigid, and she fell on the floor. Harry ran to her immediately, while Hermione went to me, tapping me at the back.

"It's okay," she whispered, as Harry sat Chang upright and looked at me with frustration. I hated this.

Chang seemed dizzy, and Harry helped her stand up and walk to me. I shook her hand with downcast eyes. I couldn't take to look at the person by her side. There was just the ungainliness that had grown between the two of us.

In the common room, I was playing wizard chess with George.

"Castle, three spaces ahead," I ordered, and George's black knight was smashed, and dragged to one corner of the board. I smirked. He was losing.

Fred was coaching him. "Take her bishop," he said.

"No. I should take her knight."

George's queen looked up at him. "No. Take the bishop. It's no use."

"Well, if you insist ― "

Harry suddenly appeared by my side. I shivered with fear. I looked at him, surprised that there was no monstrous glint in his eyes.

"Marguerite, I need to tell you something," he said, smiling. I needed no doubt that his grin could almost cut his face into half.

There was an awkward pause. "What is it?"

"No, not here."

I first put a Freezing Charm to the chess pieces so that neither of my twin cousins could alter the progress of the game as Harry and I were away from their prying eyes.

The two of us stood by the farthest corner of the room, away from the others. Controlling the urge to look at him, I just said, "What is it?"

"Marguerite, thank you!" he replied, placing his hands on my arms, making me look at him. He was still beaming at me.

"You're thanking me for what?" I asked, a nasty thought forming in my mind. The room seemed to darken as much as a moonless night.

Harry craned his neck around, and when he assured himself that no one noticed, he said, "If it wasn't for Stunning her, Cho wouldn't be my girlfriend!"

My insides were in morbid somersault. No, this couldn't be. Tears stung my eyes, good thing my hair concealed them from his gaze. The twinge was too searing that I couldn't make up my mind if I should be happy or not, if I should be glad for him or not.

"Oh, congratulations, then!" I said, and, under the pretext of hugging him, a tear fell from my eyes. "That's really nice, Harry. I'm happy for the two of _you_." patting his back, I shut my eyes tightly to restrain the tears about to come out as well.

We broke our embrace, and his eyes sparkled even more. "Thank you, Marguerite. You're really a good _friend_."

I went away, my feet jittery, fragile, and craving for support. As I sat on the floor, across my cousins, the pang still smothered my chest.

"Hey, Marguerite, are you all right?" Fred asked.

I budged. Wiping my tears haphazardly, I said, "Oh, yes, I am. Continue the game?"

George chortled. "Don't fool us, we know you're not okay. Broken-hearted, aren't you?" His queen hit one of my bishops.

"I absolutely am in good condition." One of my knights knocked his only bishop.

"Why then are you crying?"

"Tears of joy, Fred."

"Are you sure? Or is it because of misery?"

"Definitely of happiness. I'm happy for Harry."

"I don't think so."

They were trying to distract me. "Well, I guess, it's you who are distressed. Checkmate."

George looked at me with surprise. I smirked and went away, up to the girl's dormitory.

I threw myself on the bed and pulled the hangings to hide me from Hermione who was reading a book on her bed. I wanted no one to talk to. I just wished I could cry my heart out, now that Harry and that chafing Chang were official lovers. Beads of cold tears poured down my heated face, and I reflexively put a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob that inevitably came out my throat. The velvet hangings around me suddenly were brushed aside, and Hermione peered at me.

"Please go away. I want to be alone."

"I know what that is," she said, sitting on the four-poster and pulled the hangings closed again. "Is it about Harry and Cho?"

I sat and turned to her. "What if I tell you that it's about them? What if I tell you that Harry isn't just a friend for me?"

"Then I'll understand."

Hermione brought me to her arms and wept with me.

~Off to next chapter!

**four-eyed 0-0**


	7. Chapter 7

**Read and Review! T.Y.**

**CHAPTER SEVEN - The Bathroom**

The following day, I went to the breakfast table alone, only to find myself first of all students to come. That was nice, I would finally start my day with a bittersweet solitude that I was desiring for the very moment. Eating my breakfast in a hurry, I didn't notice the vampire sitting next to me.

"Hi," he said, not-so-lazily.

I turned to him. My seclusion was thrashed. "Hi." Chew.

"Why in a hurry? Someone running after you?" he asked, taking a toast.

I choked at the sight. "Why are you taking that? This isn't your house table. You've got to go. I don't like it when you're around. And so does my friends."

"Answer my question first, will you?" He munched on the buttered toast.

"Why should I? Besides, it has nothing to do with you."

"It does. It's Potter. And _you_."

His eyes sparkled malevolently. I hated it so much. "What do you mean?" He roused my curiosity.

"Marguerite Corneille, I've never felt this thing before, but I guess I need to be meddlesome," he drawled, without looking at me.

"Excuse me?" I blurted, shocked. "Will you just please get straight to the point? I don't get it." I was nervous.

He sighed. "I'm concerned. Especially now that Pothead's doing some off-rocker business. Marguerite, I just don't get it. Why should you be stupid over that Scarhead?"

There was something that gave me a terrible lurch in my stomach. "What are you talking about? And why should you be asking me those things? Why should you be concerned?"

"I can't tell you."

I stood up. "Mr. Malfoy, thank you for your worrying, but I do not need any of it. I hate sympathy. Especially mock remorse," I said, taking a step away, "Good morning, anyways."

"I'm telling you, Marguerite, I'll be interfering until Pothead's got what he ought to."

"Whatever, Draco."

As I was walking the corridors leading to the first class I decided to attend this day, Hermione had caught up after me, thankful I was that the two boys weren't tailing her or I should have dashed away as fast as she had come by my side.

"I've been looking for you all morning!" she spat, "I've waited for you at the Great Hall, you weren't there. I've looked for you at Potions and you weren't there. Even in Arithmancy! At lunch, you still weren't there. What's happening? Are you out of your mind?"

I didn't want to talk.

"Marguerite!" Hermione pulled my arm, making me turn around to face her. "Don't tell me you'll be acting like this for the rest of the year just because _he _had chosen Cho. Harry and Ron were ever worried about you. They kept asking me where you are, why you're not showing up. Do you think it will ease the pain? Harry still doesn't know about how you feel. And it's better not to let him."

It was simply pointless, I knew, what I was doing. However, there was no one that could tell me that I ought to do what they wanted me to. I just wished that Hermione, of all friends I had, would reflect into the glint amidst my blue orbs. She was the smartest witch of the age, after all.

"All right, I understand," she finally said, arching her fine eyebrows. "I wouldn't push you to talk to Harry."

It was the time to response. "Thanks, Hermione. I've been wishing you'd tell me that."

She scoffed at me. "Marguerite, I myself am a girl. Wouldn't you just tell me what you need? Not that I'll be chasing you off Moaning Myrtle's bathroom the next days."

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?" I blurted, hit with sudden curiosity.

She seemed nervous. "Never mind. You know that it's out-of-bounds." She walked me to McGonagall's class.

Then out of the blue, there were figures that met my eyes both dressed in Hogwarts robes, with ties of Ravenclaw and Slytherin. One was a long-haired female, the other a beefy seventh year. Then I turned my head fully to their direction. It was Cho Chang _snogging_ an unknown man.

That very night, while we were having our practice sessions, it was Cho and I who, cursedly again, battled. The last night's revelations were too heavy to take that I wanted to give her a great experience she would never forget. The maple wand I held shook on edge as I fought the urge to curse her as a stone, to enlarge her ears, to blow her up. Chang had suddenly seemed to look as though she were an evil and vain being, that she was a nemesis.

"_Rictusempra!_" I cried, and she dropped on all fours, twitching and laughing. There was a great applause from all sides, except for Harry who looked suddenly grim.

He raised his wand and performed the counter curse. Chang stood up at once, looked at me sulkily, and turned to Harry, lips curled into a pretentious smile. "Enough, Cho and Marguerite. Let's move on to I and Seamus."

Turning to me, Harry tried to look happy, flashing a smile that did not convince me at all. He bowed then at Seamus, just as the latter did, and, without warning, the sandy-haired boy shot him with a Leg-Locker Curse, making him hit the ground just as his girlfriend did. His eyeglasses flew askew and shattered to smithereens. It was Chang's turn to cry, "_Harry_!" and run by his side, saying, "It's okay, sweetie," and ask for help as though Harry would die at the very spot.

"There's no need to be so worried," I said, failing to contain myself. I performed the counter curse, said "_Reparo!_" for his glasses, and Chang looked up at me, gawking. "Hermione, I've got to go."

"Just wait a minute." Harry's voice echoed through my ears, making me stop at my track, the room was filled with utter silence from the others. He reached my position and grabbed me out.

Once we were outside, he spoke. "What's the problem, Marguerite?" His voice was suddenly abysmal.

"Nothing, Harry." There was no way I was going to tell the truth.

He took my arm. "Then why are you acting like this?" he somehow snarled.

Tears began to pool at the corner of my eyes and I shook my head to let several tendrils of my hair conceal them from his gaze, just like last night. "Nothing, really."

"Now, Marguerite Corneille, I never know you would be like this! Why don't you tell me? Why should you lie?"

Because you would be hurt. "There's nothing, just as I said!" I yelled, my voice etching its path through the night air. His eyes were as round as his glasses. "There is absolutely nothing, Harry Potter!"

He let go of me. "You're lying, I know you are," he retorted, insistently.

It was the cue, I reckoned. "All right, then. You want to know? Cho Chang, your ever loved girlfriend, was… was... _snogging _ a Slytherin down the corridor!"

Harry was aghast. "You're still lying, you're just telling me that so that I'll be keeping her away from me, so that you'll be having the time of your life, thinking that you have every right to nick a glimpse at me every now and then without anyone catching you. You like me, don't you? And you're doing this to have me, to make me see the person I love in a different and false light!"

It was too much. Raising my hand, fresh tears poured down my face. There was a defying snap that echoed through the corridor, as Harry's face was hit by myself. I ran away, cursing that I ever knew such a stupid person, whom everyone had thought as the bravest of all. He was nothing but a coward. A coward he was to face the truth.

Running the farthest I had ever run, a torch lightened my path, glancing a door bearing a lopsided OUT OF ORDER sign. It was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

**~four-eyed 0-0**


	8. Chapter 8

**R&R!**

**CHAPTER EIGHT - Lost**

The door seemed to invite me to its solace. It was the right thing to ease my pain. I would lock myself in it. And cry until no tear came out anymore.

However, when I had closed the door, a wandlight shone upon me, and an ever familiar sneer greeted.

"Hello, Marguerite Corneille," Draco Malfoy drawled. "What a coincidence to see you here."

It was the worst night in my fifteenth year of existence. Wanting not to talk with my throat in a horrible flip-flop, I reached for the door latch. Malfoy sneered, his face a palest pointed radish. The door couldn't be opened.

"No, it's no coincidence," I said defiantly. "Do not fool me, Malfoy. And what should a _prefect_ be doing in a bathroom ― a girl's bathroom?"

"Well. As you said, I am a _prefect_," he drawled out, jabbing ostentatiously the green and silver badge pinned at his sweater. "And I have every single right to wander around, you know, for inspection. Especially regarding Pothead and Weasel ―"

"And Hermione, and me, and the Gryffindors!" I tramped the door and rummaged for the latch once more, in desperate hope to open it.

"There's no need to walk away. I'll shut up if you want me to." He sat on his corner, crossing his arms around his chest. "Besides, I just want to watch you whimper over Pothead."

I sat on the spot where the door stood. "Why should you? Happy, now are we? That I've got what I _ought_ to?" Tears burst from my still wet eyes. He was making me feel more foolish. "You're just all the same. You, males. You'll laugh and make fun of us. You'll pretend as if you were idiots, that you don't know, when actually, you do, so that we'll spill the beans from our own mouths. You love emotional blackmail. You don't understand us at all."

Malfoy moved uncomfortably. "Maybe, I am sometimes just as you have said. But unlike Potter, I don't act like I am stupid when I am sure. I just don't like topsy-turvy's."

"And I don't like liars, especially those lying to make someone feel either better or worse," I said.

"Which of the two am I motivated to do so?"

"I actually don't know, Draco Malfoy."

He snickered, which I took appreciatively. "Marguerite, you're nice and has got a good deal of nonsense." His silver eyes glittered maliciously as the candlelight glanced his pointed face, white as a ghost. There was something in those eyes that reminded me of someone known not by mere memory, but a rather instinctively-known and subconscious reminder. I wonder for a moment whether it was because of the tears stinging my eyes.

I shifted on my seat. "I have a funny feeling that you're not telling me something, Malfoy."

"Oh, so do I. Got something in there, Miss Corneille?" His eyes grew even more malicious.

I was growing more uncomfortable. Harry's thought had suddenly drifted from my mind. "W-what do you mean?"

"I myself do not know, Marguerite. Perhaps some nasty little secret, I suppose."

"A secret? What would that _indeed_ mean, eh?"

He went a lighter shade of pale green. His breath suddenly came in harsh rasps. "I can't tell you tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

"Why delay the inevitable?"

"The inevitable may be delayed when not in absolute assurance."

The latch of the door suddenly clicked as he pointed his wand at it. Smirking, he rose to his feet and said, "Go now, Marguerite."

I followed, suppressing the words that were about to come out my dry throat.

The common room was empty but for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, to my greatest disappointment. I rooted to the spot where I had landed my feet on after scrambling from the portrait hole. They all seemed waiting for me, no one else but me.

"Marguerite, goodness, it's one o' clock!" Hermione said without much ado. She made her way from the hearthrug where the three of them sat toward me. "Now, what happened?" she whispered, her head close to mine.

"Come off it, Hermione. I need to rest," I muttered back. She scowled.

"Just what was the slapping all about? He's told us what you've done. And what he has done, as well."

I smirked. "Sure, are you not, that he's not lying?" I sighed and glanced toward the boys. "Anyways, it doesn't matter. I'll go to bed."

"Marguerite…." Hermione gasped, as I scurried to the girl's dormitory.

It had been almost a month since I had not talked to Harry, not even to my cousin, or Hermione. I had spent the days alone, as well as the nights, wandering around the school as late as I could, even after _cold_ D.A. meetings into which I did not take any lesson with the interest I had before the wall between Harry and I had grown so tall that I never thought I would still be able to look him in the eyes. The grounds had frozen as much as our moods, feet of snow capped the grass as though encouraging worse coldness and haughtiness as for the two of us. Students went up and down the staircases and cascaded down the corridors with dragon-skin gloves, scarves, cloaks. The air seemed the dullest, never feeling that the Christmas holidays were in just a matter of two months. And the Quidditch season was about to come within a fortnight.

Even though I was still in the I-am-your-nemesis mood with Harry, I still couldn't find a way not to support the Gryffindor team whatsoever, not with Ron playing as Keeper (and doing it nastily) and Fred and George as Beaters (in great contrary to Ron's play). Most especially when there's _lovely_ Cho Chang to shriek with praises and support. Not with the Slytherins who sang every now and then, "Weasley Is Our King" and wear those ridiculous silver crown badges. And not with Luna Lovegood having to wear atop her head a realistic, life-size lion's head, which roared whenever she wanted to.

There was a good deal of yells and booing from the red-and-gold crowd everytime Ron let the Quaffle in, and a chorus of the song: "Weasley will make sure we win; Weasley is our king..." from the green-and-silver crowd at the farthest end of the pitch.

However, when we all thought it was hopeless, Harry and Malfoy did a great dive, racing for the Snitch. Harry caught it, I held my breath, and Hermione did as well, I heard her. Malfoy was scrambling hands with him, but then a Bludger hit Harry at his back. Madam Hooch's whistle rang. I looked up. It was Crabbe. Harry lay flat on the ground, still struggling to fight the struggling Snitch in his hand. Angelina Johnson landed near Harry and helped him. There was a good deal of cheering from the three Houses but the Slytherin. Ron was nowhere to be found.

Everything happened so fast. Malfoy had sneered and exchanged snide comments with Harry and Fred and George, Fred, red as his robes struggled through Angelina, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell, while Harry had held George. But then, Harry had let go of him, and the two of them charged at Malfoy, who later lay as nothing but a punching bag. There was a rush of outrage from the crowds, forgetting the victory attested to just three minutes ago.

"HARRY! GEORGE!" someone yelled.

"HARRY! GEORGE! NO!" Hermione cried, deafening me even more. No, this shouldn't go on.

"_IMPEDIMENTA!_" The curse hit Harry and made him land flat on the white pallidity the second time around three minutes' time. I scrambled my wand back to my robes, as everyone turned toward my direction.

"Marguerite?" said Hermione, aghast. "Why?"

"Umbridge would kill Harry," I replied, tears streaming down my face as Harry himself had gotten to his feet and turned to me, a fit of rage in his face. Malfoy was still writhing with pain on the ground, his nose bleeding.

Madam Hooch went to the scene and yelled her heart out. Even so, Harry still looked at me, now with the same dreamy look Luna wore, as though he couldn't make up his mind. I ran for it, amidst the crowd whose attention divided between the people on the pitch and myself.

~**four-eyed 0-0**

**next chapter!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**R&R! Thank you!**

**TwilightForever93: thanks to you so much!  
**

**CHAPTER NINE - A Truth Gained**

It was the sound of the giant Hogwarts tower clock that made me stare over my bended knees and folded arms at the bathroom door. It was midnight. And I had spent roughly ten whole hours in here, crying my heart out. I just made the situation worse. Malfoy was a Slytherin. What would my fellow Gryffindors think of? That I was a traitor? Or a spy? Or a prospect Death Eater's daughter?

But then Harry still was never in a right state of mind to charge at Malfoy, who, by any means, had always provoked him. I just wanted him to stop. Umbridge would give him a nice punch, since he had always lost grip of himself on her. Malfoy was _too_ influential. And I wanted Harry not to cause any more trouble.

Or did I not? I was confused. Did I do this for Malfoy? But why should I? _Malfoy seems good to me, telling me everything I found worth consoling_, said a voice in my head, _and he was indeed concerned. He didn't do all that as a pretext to leak any information out of me, either of the D.A. or of Harry's plans…. He was there to let me see what I had done wrong…. He was a friend…._

Was he, really? _But you love Harry, and it turned everything even more inflamed. He is losing trust… _said another voice, _It's Malfoy's fault… you shouldn't have let his plans ride…. You shouldn't have been stupid, Marguerite!_

I decided to let go of all of these. I needed to go back to the Gryffindor tower and let everything cool down, and talk it over to them. I reached for the door latch and started my way. As I reached the Fat Lady's portrait and made to pronounce the password, it swung all of a sudden, and Hermione went down, perhaps she had not noticed me, until she had laid her feet on the floor.

"Marguerite!" she gasped, wide-eyed. "I've been looking for you, McGonagall summoned me to do so." She looked sideways, as though weighing her chances of whatever, I couldn't say. "You're needed… in the hospital wing."

"Why? Who's in there?" I blurted at once. It couldn't be Harry, he acquired nothing but sore knuckles. Malfoy, then? No!

"Malfoy…. And _his_ father as well…."

My insides lurched horribly. "His father? W-why?"

"I do not know, I'm sorry." Hermione was pale as Myrtle. "Let's go, they've been waiting for you…."

We walked in silence for a few moments. But I couldn't help it anymore. "Hermione, what happened to Harry? George?"

"Banned," she said curtly.

"_Banned?_" I mumbled, "What do you mean?"

She closed her eyes. "Banned life-long in Quidditch."

My insides positively sagged down my bottom. "No…. Is it that old hag? That frog?"

She nodded, still not looking at me.

"And Harry about me?" I dared ask.

"He's not talking at all, Marguerite…. It was a great shock…. Probably thinks you're not worth trusting anymore…. S-s-s-sorry…." Her eyes streamed with tears now, and hugged me. I cried myself. I couldn't understand why she should be sorry, though. She was not involved at all.

"Hermione, t-t-thank you very much…. You're worth a million f-f-friends…." I said, tears still stinging our eyes.

She knocked at the infirmary door. It opened and revealed Dumbledore in his half-moon spectacles and night-blue satin robes. His eyes were thoughtful.

"Come in, Miss Corneille." He beckoned me in. "Thank you for taking her, Miss Granger." Hermione let go of my hand and gave a supportive nod, and disappeared around the corner.

I went inside. Draco Malfoy lay on the farthest bed, in the verge of sleeping, with his face covered with bandage, where Harry's knuckles had caused his skin to snap. And, on a chair, a man with the same white-blond, but long, hair and pointed and pale face, was seated. His eyes went a little bit wide, his sneer faltered. There was a sudden sort of heat that surged down my body as our gazes met, my brain was triggered into thinking. He seemed oddly familiar….

The man stood up. "Are you Miss Marguerite Corneille?" he asked, his tone lofty.

"Yes, I am," I replied, "And you are Lucius Malfoy." I looked at Dumbledore. He was smiling.

The one I was talking to snickered maliciously. "So, you're the person who saved my son from the devilish hands of Potter."

"Harry is no devil. Your son is, however." _Did I mean that?_

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Poppy, I guess we need to go and leave them here."

The school nurse shot a suspicious look at Lucius and went out with Dumbledore. I didn't understand.

"Mr. Malfoy, why should I be here?" I asked, keeping my tone loftier than his.

"I wanted to thank _you_." His eyes glinted.

I scowled. I should have been speaking to Harry, not him. "You _are_ welcome, then. May I go now?"

"You look perfectly like _her_," said Lucius, in a terrifying dreamy manner.

"Who's 'her'?"

"Your mother."

I did a mock chuckle. "_Of course_, I do look like her. She has carried me for nine months, and I was bound to look like her!"

"No, you do _not_ look like anyone with a drop of Celine's or Pepito's blood. You absolutely do not."

This man was crazy. "_Ha, ha,_ what are you talking about, Mr. Malfoy? My mother, Celine, and my father, Pepito, had given me all the things they needed to pick me amidst a bunch of look-alikes."

"No, they have not. You can never have a single sinew from them. You were and never are a part of them."

This was all going far-fetched. "Shut up, will you?" I turned to go away.

"Stop. You should hear this, Marguerite!" Draco had suddenly said, sitting bolt upright.

I turned to him. "What is it about? This is all absurd!"

"_No_, listen. You are not Celine and Pepito's daughter." Lucius had stepped toward me. I twitched my eyebrows. "I am your father."

"WHAT?" I exclaimed. "NO WAY!"

He seized my arm as gently as he could, despite my wild protest. "I am your father!" His eyes were suddenly thoughtful. "Your mother, she was my mistress and ― "

"NEVER! MY MOTHER WAS NEVER YOUR ― "

"MARGUERITE!" Lucius howled, and out of a corner of my mind, I wondered for a fraction of a second whether the whole castle had awoken. "You are a fruit of a sin, but you are the best blessing…. You are my ― "

"NO! I'M NOT YOU LONG-LOST DAUGHTER OR WHATSOEVER!" I struggled, and tramped his foot. He tried to seize me again, but I pointed my wand at him with a shaking hand. "NO! DO NOT TOUCH ME! DO NOT TOUCH ME WITH THOSE HANDS THAT HAS DONE MANY LIVES IN! I AM NEVER A CHILD OF SOMEONE LIKE YOU!"

And I ran toward the door, wrenched it open, and bolted it close.

~**four-eyed 0-0**


	10. Chapter 10

Hello! Long time! Sorry for the delay. Haha. Read and Review please!

**CHAPTER TEN - Hermione's Trust**

If there was anything everyone would do after a revelation, it would be to _run_. And so I did. Along endless corridors, along misleading archways… without any destination. I should just run, for my own sake, that this night might be just some incredulous nightmare… that it was just due to exhaustion… due to recent rows….

"Hello, Marguerite Corneille," a sudden voice called. It was drifting, as though an ever buoyant mood had caused it, and as whimsy as well. I turned, mopping my tear-stained face with the cuff of my robes. It was a dirty-blonde-haired girl, with protuberant eyes and arched pale eyebrows. Standing feet from the corner of the corridor, as though she had just accidentally hovered in front of me, was Luna Lovegood.

This was just typical, like I had always wanted. To see Lovegood around. "Hello, Luna," I said brusquely. "I did not expect seeing you."

She arched her eyebrows, making her pale silvery eyes protrude even more. "Neither did I," she replied breathlessly, squinting in the dim, "I was just wondering whether it was nargles I've seen lurking around this corner…." She then turned to me, her eyes still bulged, "But I guess it was your shadow."

It was a waste of time. "Oh!" I said, putting a tone of mock disappointment, "I thought I'll be able to see one of those _interesting_ creatures."

"Well, I myself am disappointed…" she muttered, although more to the floor than me. There was something dangling from her neck, which had made irksome clanking noises minutes ago as we conversed, which turned out to be a necklace of bottle caps. I sighed. "But," Luna suddenly said, "I would like to ask why you've gone this far from the Gryffindor tower, Marguerite."

There seemed no other choice but continue having this pointless talk. "I was actually leading there."

"I see," Luna told the floor again. "You seemed crying, however."

I wanted to run as well from her. "Oh, yes, I am," I said truthfully.

"Why?"

"Nothing…"

She squinted again, as though tracing signs of Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris. "I see no reason to cry for no reason."

I sighed once more. "It's just simply nothing that concerns _you_."

"Of course it concerns me…" she uttered sadly. "People taking your things, people laughing at your back, people speaking ill of you…. It is no difference…."

I felt a sudden pang in my chest. Of course Luna felt the same way as I did. Forsaken, left out… why didn't I think of that in the first place?

However, this issue was firmly for only me to deal with. "Luna, I thank you, but this thing's for me to keep for myself…."

Surprisingly, she smiled. "Oh, all right. I quite understand. " She then motioned to turn her back away from me. "It _is_ becaue of Harry Potter, anyway," she said omnisciently. "Good night, Marguerite Corneille."

I smiled. "Good night, Luna Lovegood." And as she sprinted away, metal cap necklace clanking madly, making me snigger, thinking whether she knew the whole story or not, since she knew one aspect of it.

Meanwhile, it was Argus Filch I should escape.

Hermione was still in the common room when I arrived, but she didn't take notice of me, which I was greatly thankful for. Muttering, "Night," I trotted up the girl's dormitory and sank into the warmth of the sheets.

_It was a cold, winter night…. I felt the freezing and rigidifying ambiance…. A stitch was forming slowly in my chest, that something horrid was about to happen…._

_"Celine, I should be gone by now... _He_'s after me," a voice so sad and panicky said._

_"_Maria_, she's just a month old!"_

_There was a sob. "But she can't be with me. She deserves no less…."_

_There was a baby's bawling… as though about to be left…. The stitch in my chest was ever growing more raw…. I could see three familiar faces silhouetted against the blizzard outside, two of which were my _parents_…. But the other… she had the wavy brown hair… the blue almond eyes, stained with tears…._

_"Au revoir,_ Marguerite_…." The baby bawled even higher and madder…. The pang in my chest grew so painful and seared through my whole body that I felt the urge to bawl myself…._

_"Non! Ne me quitte pas, maman!"_

I sat bolt upright. Tears were pouring down my face, sweat sopped my nightdress. I was out of breath. I clutched the throb at my chest, gasping madly for breath. The dream was so real, so intense that I dimly realized I had made some bawling too, for as I drew the hangings of my four-poster to reach for the water jug at my bedside table, Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender were sticking their heads out their hangings, tousle-haired, eyes bloodshot.

"Nightmare?" Parvati asked sleepily, yawning frantically.

I took a great gulp of water and wiped my face with my free hand. "Yes, I guess so," I sputtered.

Lavender rubbed her eyes. "What was that you've yelled?" she inquired. "Non! Ne me-whatsist…"

I shook my head, _honestly_. "No idea."

"Sounds French to me, though," said Hermione pointedly.

Hermione lit a light bulb in my head. Of course it was French! "_Ne me quitte pas_…." I muttered, "Don't leave me." I smiled at Hermione.

Parvati and Lavender exchanged looks of incomprehension.

"We'll leave that to the two of you," Lavender announced.

Parvati yawned again. "Yeah, g'night, oh, morning, I mean."

And Hermione and I wore our dressing gowns over our nightdresses and went downstairs to the common room. We sat on the squashy armchairs by the dying fire and stayed silent for moments.

"_Incendio!_" muttered Hermione, and the hearth burst into flames, glancing the grandfather clock, which displayed two o' clock in the early morning.

"So," she began tentatively, "what was it that you've dreamed about?"

I looked at her. I hesitated. "It has got to do something with last night's happenings..."

She was waiting, peering at me friendlier than ever.

"Draco Malfoy was there in the hospital wing, right?" I asked and she nodded. "And did you know that Lucius Malfoy was there too?" She nodded again. "Hermione, please do not be shocked. Please promise me you will believe me even though it does not seem believable. I need you to promise me, Hermione."

"I solemnly promise." It was straightforward, unwavering. It kept me.

"Well," I began, faltering, the stitch renewing. "Lucius was there. He thanked me for _saving _Little Malfoy's neck from Harry ― no, I didn't like it at all," I hastily added as she arched her eyebrows. " I told him he _was _welcome ― he was, of course not…." I paused.

"Then?"

"Then, he said, 'You look exactly like her.'," I continued, "So I was dazzled. I asked, 'Who's her?' and he replied, 'Your mother.'." I gasped for breath, having a second thought whether to continue or not. Hermione was still waiting. "I laughed, you see. Of course I look like my Mom! It was stupid for him to say that. But then, he told me that I do not have a drop of my Mom and Dad's blood running through my veins."

"What?" Hermione blurted. "Why would he?"

"That was why I started to shout. It was absurd!" I replied.

"_No. _What really happened then?"

I made up my mind. I should speak. "Lucius Malfoy told me that he _is_ my real father." It was straightforward and thought not to hurt myself, but the message was too heavy.

Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth, letting a muffled gasp of horror and disbelief. I waited, tears brimming in my eyes once more. Slowly, pregnantly, she lowered her hands. "Is it true?"

"I don't know. Perhaps." I sighed. "But part of me says it's a downright lie; telling me my true mother's a mistress of his…. Never!"

Hermione looked down. Suddenly she budged. "Then what's the dream all about?"

We looked at each other. Understanding dawned upon both of us, tears spilled to my face, and Hermione wept, for the second time, by my side.

That's Hermione. I love her.

**~four-eyed0-0**


	11. Chapter 11

Long time no see! So here's another chapter for you!

**CHAPTER ELEVEN - Malfoy Fancies Me**

Draco Malfoy attended double Potions this day. I was even more scared than ever. I had just wished upon awaking an hour ago that he was still in the hospital wing. Hermione chose to sit beside me rather than Harry or Ron who were unsurprisingly surly toward the two of us. _Boys._

Cho Chang appeared around the corner of the fourth floor corridor as Hermione and I were heading for Arithmancy. I was beginning to have a feeling that this day was not going to be any better than the previous one.

Cho looked at me, ignoring Hermione, who let out a stern snort. "So," she began, "told Harry a desperate lie, did we?"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, and I raised a hand to silence her. "What I have told Harry is a downright truth."

Cho let out a shriek of mock laughter. "And do you think he would believe you?"

"Yes. And that's what is upsetting you, right?" I smirked, and then shuddered to think of doing the same as that of Malfoy's.

"No, of course not!" she cried. "And come to think of it, he even swore that he wouldn't listen to anyone if it concerns our breakup."

Hermione snorted again. "Cho, if you think Harry's that stupid, you better spilt up with him before he does."

"And what makes you think that he would be the first to do so?"

"Because he'll find out soon that you've been lying to him," I replied.

Her face drained fast of color. She took out her wand. "Well then, let's see if he'll ever know! _Obliv―"_

_"Expelliarmus!" _

Cho's wand flew a great arc and landed on Draco Malfoy's hand. She shrieked, and was about to run ―

"Cho!"

We turned. Harry and Ron had just come in the scene, Harry's wand at the ready, pointing at Malfoy.

_"Petri―"_

_"Expelliarmus!" _I yelled. Harry's hand made the same arc as Cho's and landed on the floor with a loud clatter.

Harry looked at me. "I don't believe you, Marguerite," he said.

"So do I, Har―"

It was all of a sudden. Cho had shot a jinx right at me using Harry's wand, someone had run toward me and yelled, _"Protego!"_ And before I knew it, Cho's jinx bounced back and hit the wall instead, bits of it flew in all directions, and I was down on the floor, something heavy had wrapped itself around me.

For one fleeting moment, I hoped it was Harry who had saved my neck, but as I opened my eyes, there was white-blond instead of jet-black hair. Draco Malfoy saved me. I tried to move, straining his tight embrace, and he turned his head to look at me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes full of genuine concern.

I couldn't answer. I turned away and scanned the area. Harry was standing awestruck, his glasses flashing, his mouth agape. Hermione was bent to her knees, her hands over her mouth. Ron was rather slumped on the wall, his face paler than Malfoy's. I couldn't see Cho.

Malfoy got to his feet, lending a hand to help me. I ignored him and pulled myself up; even so, he seized me around the shoulders. I pushed him away.

"What the heck do you think you're doing to my cousin?" Ron gasped, his face still unusually pale, except for his ears, which were flaming red. He strode toward the two of us. "Why did you save her?"

Malfoy pulled himself to his full height. "It doesn't concern you at all, Weasley."

"Oh, yeah, it concerns me, Malfoy!" Ron snatched my arm. "Do you fancy Marguerite?"

I shuddered, not with nervousness, but with the restraint of laughing. I knew this wasn't the right time to smile, and what was more, laugh, but Ron's perception was too poor. Did he not realize the real and far-fetched situation? Even so, I was thankful that he did not.

Malfoy suddenly smirked. "And what if I do?"

Ron's hand closed around my arm, making me feel more inclined to yelping than laughing. Malfoy was indeed saving my neck. I honestly wanted to thank him at the very moment.

Harry had walked toward us, facing Malfoy. "We don't play games here, Malfoy," he said.

"And I'm not playing, Potter," Malfoy said. "And why does it concern you? There's Cho Chang over there, and she's your _girlfriend_, right?" He seized my free arm and pulled me from Ron, wrapping his arm around my waist. I shuddered yet again and turned away from them, looking down the floor. "Besides, it's not Marguerite you really like, is she?"

I flushed furiously and kept myself from looking up at Harry. _Please tell him you like me, please tell him you like me!_

"No."

I looked up, only to see Harry's retreating figure walking toward the destroyed part of the wall. Cho was lying facedown, unconscious. He heaved her and placed her arm about his shoulders, stared at me, and stalked away.

My chest was throbbing violently. I wanted to sob.

"Come on, Marguerite," Malfoy said.

"No. I'll take her," said Ron.

"I will."

"I will!"

"Shut it!" I yelled, just as Professor Victor appeared in the scene. I ran toward Hermione, who was frozen, although now standing and not kneeling, and snatched her away, just as when Malfoy and Ron's voices thundered, Professor Victor mixing up with theirs.

I'm sorry if it comes like that. I just ran out of ideas. Thanks for reading! R&R!

**~four-eyed0-0**


	12. Chapter 12

I love this chapter. Although it wasn't well-written. R&R

**CHAPTER TWELVE - Valentines' Day Moon**

Harry did not appear in the common room after dinner, although Ron was sitting on one of the cozy armchairs, staring absent-mindedly at the flames. When Hermione and I had seated ourselves far from him, Ginny came, her face red.

"Is it true? Malfoy fancies you?"

"Who told you that?"

"It's all over the school!" She sat down. "Is it true?"

I looked at Hermione, and she nodded. "Yes."

Ginny snorted. "And do you like him too?"

"No."

"Good. I know it's still Harry. But are you dating him?"

"No, Ginny. Stop it, will you?"

Ginny pursed her lips and I sighed. " Okay, good night, then." She went away.

"Hermione, I guess I'm going mad." She made no response. A tear fell down my cheeks, and Ron went away, trotting stupidly up the boy's dormitories.

Next day, an announcement about a Valentines' Day Ball next Saturday was on the notice board in the common room. Everyone was to choose his or her date. I was rather nervous. Even so, I was glad to hear from Ginny that Harry and Cho broke up last night at the hospital wing. As we were eating, Harry looked very grim indeed, and I couldn't help but feel sorry to be celebrating at his loss. But then Malfoy's eagle owl swooped down toward me just as when hundreds had entered the Great Hall. I fumbled to take the note, placed it on my lap, concealing it from others' gazes.

_My dear sister,_

_I am definitely sure that you are my sister, and that what I have done yesterday was only to save you yet again._

_Anyway, there will be a Valentines' Day Ball next Saturday made by Umbridge. You should go with ME, got it? Stay away from Potter._

_Brother Draco_

I rolled the parchment and looked up. Ron was again pale, Harry was furiously slicing his bacon, Hermione was hiding behind the _Daily Prophet_, and everyone else was staring at me.

"Now what?" Ron asked. "Asked you out to the ball, right?"

"Yes."

"And you're going with him?"

"I should."

I was dressed in a silver-white dress robes, while Hermione wore cerise ones. My hair was neatly curled and put into an elegant loop with ringlets, done by Hermione. I did her hairstyle in return, a rather elaborate bun. We looked at each other and giggled.

At the doors leading to the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy stood in his silver-and-black dress robes, looking not any excited. As Hermione and I were going down the marble staircase, curious faces turned to me since I was the great topic of hushed conversations. Draco Malfoy, dating a Gryffindor? It was no doubt I was the center of latest blabbers.

When I reached my date, he smirked. "Good thing you did decide to come with me." He looked at Hermione, "And you, Granger, you better go."

Hermione snorted yet again. "See you in a bit," she whispered and trotted away.

Draco lent his hand and looked imploringly at me. I gave my hand to him and he ushered me inside the Great Hall which was adorned with silver and red silk tapestries bearing _HAPPY VALENTINES' DAY!_ . Little Cupids flew around with their bows and arrows, sprinkling the hall with silver flakes. Circular tables were draped with silk and a fountain was explicitly put up by the far left of the hall where the Gryffindor table would have been. An orchestra was playing sweet and romantic melodies, as couples giggled and tickled around. The staff was seated on the High Table, looking grim, except for the crinkly toad who wore shocking pink dress robes.

My brother and I seated ourselves by the fountain and didn't talk at all. As soon as everyone was inside the hall, Umbridge stood up and greeted everyone, rather too giggly. Her long, long, long message was nothing to me, but not to Draco who kept elbowing me when he noticed that I was staring blankly in the air, or following the cute Cupids around. Just as when Umbridge finished did I felt the sensation of being in the event.

Draco pulled me to the dance floor. He placed his hands around my waist and I promptly placed mine around his shoulders.

"Well?" he asked, as we were stirring.

"What?" I said, not looking at him.

"Getting along well, aren't we?"

I sighed. "No. I don't plan to do so." I spotted Harry, arms folded around his chest, his eyes cast upon somewhere near us.

"Looking at Potter?" I turned to Draco. "See? I know what you're thinking."

I scowled. "And so what if you do? I don't care."

He kissed me on my forehead. I grew so red, and nevertheless, I let out a shriek of disbelief and surprise. Everyone turned to us.

"What was that for?" I was fuming. "I hate you!"

"Don't worry. It'll be nothing." He smirked. I was so sick of those smirks he wore. "Trust me, sis."

I nudged him away. "I want to be alone." And I stamped away, impulsively turning to the direction where Harry was, and wept silently to see him gone.

Deciding to head elsewhere silent, I got out of the castle and strode toward the lake. The moon was in a pleasant glow, casting rays of light everywhere. As I was approaching the edge, I noticed a figure seated to where I was heading. It seemed throwing pebbles on the water, as though oblivious to the fact that a giant squid might gobble any intruder up anytime.

I continued to walk down the grassy moonlit ground, and froze feet away as Harry turned to me. This was so not the time to see him. What would I do? Greet him? Say hi? Run? _WHAT? _

Just when I thought we would stay this way longer, he got up and brushed dirt off his green robes. "You're here."

"Yes," I said breathlessly. My cheeks were so painful.

He looked at me, then elsewhere. "Not enjoying Drake's company?"

"Yes," I said again.

"Why did you go with him then? Trying to get back at someone?"

I turned sharply at him. "What are you talking about?"

He paced around, then looked at me squarely in the eyes. "You. You're getting back at me."

I chortled. "What makes you think of that? Why would I?"

"Because you simply want to make me go mad since I never listened to you when you told me the thing about Cho."

I was starting to fume. "So? That's it? Pathetic, Harry! Pathetic!" I clenched my teeth, advancing on him. "You think I'll be that stupid? So what if you never listened to me? So what if you just listened to Cho? What would be the great fruit of dating Malfoy after all these things? Tell me!"

"Simple." His eyes glowed heavily with the moonlight. "Make Harry Potter think he is no good as a friend than Draco Malfoy. That's it, Marguerite, that's it!"

I couldn't help it. Stretching my arm, I made my hand land squarely on his face. He turned to me, tears streaming down my face now.

"So? After everything I've done… after everything I've done for you, that's it? You'll think you're just some trash for me? You don't know what I am going through, Harry! You don't know how it hurts me to just sit around, playing as though everything's fine when in fact, I know, that Cho would never do you anything good!" I heaved a sigh and sobbed uncontrollably. "She's not the person whom I entrust you to. From the very beginning, I never liked her! But I pretended, I pretended that it's all right! Pretended! I ―"

"Then you should've told me!" Harry seized my shoulders and shook me. "Told me that you don't like her. Told me everything. Told me from the very beginning. But you did not!"

"And what? Ruin our friendship just because of a girl? Huh, Harry?"

"Marguerite! You know that I can listen!"

"Yes! I know you can. But the problem is with me…." I sobbed. "It's with me!"

Harry looked at me like he never did before. Under the moonlight, there was an unknown occurrence that only the two of us knew. His hands reached for the tears I was shedding, wiping them away. My vision became clearer, his eyes were glowing even more.

"Then you should've told me…." His voice was gentler than ever. "Told me the whole stuff. Than make me go mad about the two of us all along…."

"What are you talking about?" I managed to ask despite the chill running down me.

"The two of us…." His face was closing on mine, he was leaning, and I did not know what to do. But his face was too close, and I could not move a muscle. Every sensation was flowing down my belly, like a sort of snake ready for a feast, rattling my insides.

And his lips ghosted over mine, his arms closed around me in a lover's embrace. It was gentle, longing, assuring…. I could not think straight…. He was draining me of all…. It felt like I was being levitated, that my feet were not touching the ground…. He was making me fly…. This was it. The moment I had wanted, that Harry would feel the same way I did. That he would love me just as I loved him….

Slowly, inexplicably, our gazes met, after what seemed like eternity. His eyes sparkled, and his lips curved into a smile. I smiled shyly. _We kissed._

He kissed my forehead and made my face turn to him. "You should've told me that you love me, because I love you more."

...

I'm speechless. Haha.

**~four-eyed0-0**


	13. Chapter 13

Hello there. It's been really long since I last updated. Things were just going around school and the finals had just ended. Urgh. Anyway, here's for you! Read and Review!

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**CHAPTER THIRTEEN - No More A Secret**

Euphoric were the days that followed that fourteenth of February. Harry and I had been spending the free hours of the days sneaking out of Ron's and Hermione's eyesight, longing for yet another minute of conversation. Sometimes we would rather stay by the bushes in the courtyard, concealed from the flocks of students spending there free time outside, or by the lake where we cast _Muffliato_ _Charms_ so that we would not be overheard, or inside a classroom that had not been used for years. And in those times, I felt both happy and wary. Tucked in his arms, I felt reassured. Yet looking him in the eyes felt like being seen into. Like he would sooner or later know the secret that lingered in my eyes, the secret I could never tell.

But those days seemed really our days. Despite the terrible things happening around us, it seemed to Harry and I that it was the two of us we could lean upon at all times, and of course, Ron and Hermione. Yet those days, I felt rather guilty. Guilty for hiding a great truth from Harry when Draco Malfoy kept speaking to me through smirks, eye contact, and nods.

"Hey, Pothead!" came a drawling voice one morning when we were moving out the dungeons.

It was my brother. He smirked yet again. "Care to talk?"

Harry snorted. I looked from unruly black to the smoothed blond.

"What for, Ferret?" asked Harry, oblivious to the staring of everyone else in the corridor leading out the dungeons.

"Something very _important_." Draco nodded toward me and sneered. There was a brotherly look on his face.

Harry turned to me briefly and I flushed furiously.

"Just what is it now?" he asked, suddenly heated.

Draco crossed the distance between us and gave Harry an imploring look. If Harry had any intention of hitting him right at his nose, I was surprised he had not, when Draco had suddenly made a grab for me, and Harry yanked me back just as then.

Harry turned to him sharply, "If you don't mind, Malfoy," he said, nostrils flaring, "I would like to tell you to stay away from my _girlfriend_."

Ron and Hermione turned just as sharp to the two of us. "Harry? Marguerite? You didn't tell us!" they chorused, eyes wide with pure shock.

"Neither was I informed!" Draco suddenly yelled.

The Golden Trio glared daggers at him. I simply evaded their gazes. "Why should we?" Harry scoffed.

The pointy-faced nemesis swallowed _too_ loudly. Harry turned to me once more, eyebrows arched far to high his forehead, the scar now forming nothing but a crooked zigzag, not the lightning bolt anymore. "What's this, Marguerite?" he asked, voice icy.

I shook my head and cocked an eyebrow in pretense. "What are you talking about, Harry?"

"About Malfoy's behavior, _obviously_!"

I sighed an exhausted breath and glanced at Hermione's direction. "I utterly do not know."

"Harry, shut it, will you? We'll get late for class!" Hermione said suddenly.

Malfoy smirked. "Saving her neck, eh, are you, Granger?"

Hermione pouted. "Oh, Malfoy," she gasped irritably. "Just don't mess with them. They perfectly are happy together and do not ask for any of your snide comments." She grabbed me by the arm and Harry by the shoulder. "Now, let us go. Don't let the mighty jumping ferret get in your way."

And we were off, my heart torn into stealing a glance at my brother's direction and never minding so.

By that time, I dreaded what my brother would be capable to do now that he knew. Might as well add Lucius to the list. I sighed.

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Wish you liked it. :D Oh, yeah. I'm paranoid.

**~four-eyed 0-0**


	14. Chapter 14

I'm so back! Sorry for the late update. CAT training is clogging my sched. It's already summer yet there are too many things to do at school. Ugh. I'm happy I'll be entering my senior year, though. Haha.

Hope you'll enjoy!

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**CHAPTER FOURTEEN - He Already Knew**

"Marguerite," said Harry, as we were doing homework at the now empty common room, seated on two armchairs by the fire. Hermione had finished all of it a while ago, and Ron simply was fed up.

"Yes?" I answered halfheartedly, scribbling a loopy 'y' on the parchment.

He sighed _too_ loudly that when I turned to him, his breath was actually rising through the cold March air despite the fire alight in front of us. "About Malfoy ―"

"Drop it," I said, a little more defiantly that he cocked an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes. "I'm sick of this, Harry. It's always Malfoy that you are so concerned about." I screwed the lid of my inkbottle and set aside my finished Herbology essay. I stared at him, his expression now questioning. "Yes?" There was the word again.

Harry set his things aside as well. "I've got a feeling you're hiding something from me." It was stated without him looking at me. Damn instincts.

"I haven't got any."

"Do you not?"

I scoffed. "Oh, Harry." I took my bag and my books. "Goodnight." It was curt. I stood up and turned to walk away.

He yanked me back. "Don't go just yet." I turned to him.

"Now what, Harry?" I hissed, getting more and more uncomfortable. I did not wish to tell him so soon. Of course I loved him, but I could never imagine what it would be like once he knew the truth. Imagine loving one of the same blood (half of the blood in my case) as your nemesis. Crap.

He stood up as well. "You're avoiding this, Marguerite, I know it."

"You're too assuming," I told him through gritted teeth. "I hate that."

He let go of my arm. "I don't know, Marguerite," he muttered, "but I'm scared."

I tilted my head to one side. Harry was giving me the creeps right now, and I could not resist it.

"You should be," I whispered. He stared at me. "I love you too much I could not hurt you." _But right now, I am doing the very idea, not telling you._

Harry gulped. "Tell me. It won't hurt much." His emerald green eyes were glowing. But no, I would not tell him just yet. I could not bear it.

"Harry, I'm telling you," I started, putting up a façade of drowsiness and adding up a yawn at that, "this would be better discussed when we're both in the right condition." I tried to smile at him before nodding briefly. "Goodnight, dear."

He pulled me close to him and embraced me. _Harry, you're so weird._ I hugged him back, my eyes welling up with tears. I could not bear this anymore.

He pulled away first and leaned in towards my face, so that our noses were touching. I blushed furiously. I breathed in his scent, the scent that calmed me most than any other scent I had known all my life. The scent of the very person I loved, the scent of the very person I would not want to break the heart of, the scent of the individual who placed mine back into pieces. If only I could have a Time-Turner, I would gladly travel back into time and let him know first about my relationship with Draco Malfoy before he had known _what_ kind of person I was, so that he would not be hurting like this, not even me, for perhaps it would have been equal hate that we would feel for each other as to what he and my brother did for one another.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. I did the same. Holding him like this was warm enough. Just being this close made me happy. I loved him _too_ much I could not think of anything in this world that would make me be this way ― be myself.

This time, it was me who claimed his lips in the slightest way that hinted no passion or fervency, just pure thoughtfulness and appreciation. I loved him so.

His lips did not move against mine, as much as I wished him not to. It was exactly what I wanted, just our lips pressed against each other, relishing the very moment. He understood me now. And I, him.

I leaned away from him and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight, Harry," I muttered. "I love you."

The very next day, my dearest brother pulled me behind a tapestry while heading to the courtyard where I was supposed to meet Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as I had wanted to converse a bit of the lesson with Professor McGonagall after class and told them to wait for me. But unfortunately, there was someone else besides the Golden Trio awaiting me, and he must have been waiting long enough to catch me at the moment.

He waved his wand for ward-off spells and a good _Muffliato _and faced me, lips pulled to a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "Now what?"

"I did not like what I heard yesterday." I scoffed. "You, my dearest sister going out ― and even the _girlfriend_ ―" his eyes widened angrily, "of the person _our_ family despised the most!"

I stomped my foot impatiently. "As for your information, my dear _half-brother_, I never considered myself a family of yours! I may be carrying your father's despicable blood, but no, the Malfoys will never be my family! I'm no one but the daughter of Celine and Pepito Corneille!"

"No, you are not! You are the daughter of my father and his mistress by the name of Angelie Poincaré!" he exclaimed, eyebrows knitting high on his pale forehead.

I took a step backward instinctively. My hand found its way to my chest, which was suddenly burning. Draco was so sure, I could tell, and the name pierced right through me. The name of the woman who abandoned me ― chose to run away, leaving her only child to a _friend_. But no, I should not believe what Draco said. Yet why did it hurt too much? Why had I been hurting myself too much? Why was everything too much for me to handle? Why?

My mother, did she really care about me? It is by a mother's nature to care for a newborn at the very least, is it not? For any mother who does not is not a mother. For goodness' sake! The neophyte is her own flesh, her own blood! But why did my mother choose otherwise? Was she that evil? Wicked?

Angelie ― so that was her name. How come did a creature so uncaring be given such name ― when it was actually meant for an _angel_? Her parents must be furious about her. She never deserved such name. Perhaps if her parents knew what she would likely be, they would have given her the name opposite of the meaning of the one bestowed upon her. To add up to that, she might have known that Lucius Malfoy was married and was expecting a son! Why did she let her guard down? She was off her rocker!

Damn.

"I don't believe you!" I screamed, finally surfacing from the sea of thoughts cascading through my mind. "NO! SHE IS NOT MY MOTHER!"

"Calm down!" he almost yelled at me. He took a step forward, reaching for me.

"I WILL NOT!" I shouted. "YOU ARE LYING TO ME! LIAR!"

Draco was taken aback. I pushed him away, so that he was thrown out from the tapestry. I was crying, sobbing, weeping my heart out. I wanted to rip the tapestry, curse it to burn, destroy…. I wanted to burst ― my heart was desperately in need of breaking away…. I wanted to be Vanished. I meant it. I backed away, and fell to a heap on the cold stone floor.

"Marguerite."

The voice made me look up. My breath caught in my throat. I could not move. I could not blink. I could not breathe at all. I could not do anything.

His green eyes pierced through me.

Hermione was ogling from behind him.

Ron was frozen, his hand stupidly suspended to hold up the tapestry.

Draco was rooted feet away from them, crestfallen.

I must speak. It was now or never. "Harry…."

He glared at me.

"No, please!"

He kept on glaring.

I sobbed a sob so profound. This was the very thing I dreaded. "No, Harry…." I tried to get up, my hands too shaky, my knees swinging. The four of them were not moving at all. I kept staring at Harry, not wanting to break his glare and my stare, afraid he might go away in an ephemeral moment. He was all that matter now. Not even Hermione, or my known cousin. "No, please, no…. Don't…." What was I talking about? Why do I keep on telling him "no"? I did not know myself. I did not know. Was it my intuition of him leaving me? Was it the perception of him being ashamed of himself ― him, Harry Potter, dating the sibling of Draco Malfoy? Was it his hatred that built so rapidly? Was it his shock? What was it?

I reached him, clung to his neck, buried my face on his shoulder, sobbing. "Please, Harry, no." His robe was soaked with my salty tears. But he was still unmoved. Thank God.

His hands reached my shoulders. I thought he would hug me, but it was absurd, for he pushed me away from him and glared once again ― or was still glaring, perhaps, making my heart split into two.

"What is it that you're asking me not to do?" he asked emotionlessly, but his eyes said otherwise. He was in flames. He was furious.

"Harry… please, don't…."

He shook me violently. "What, Marguerite, what?" he yelled. I was stupidly thankful that no one else was around.

_What was it, really? What was the reason? What did I not want him to do? _I did not know. I could not answer.

"You're pointless, Marguerite. You are." He released me so suddenly that I almost hit the ground; goodness knew how Hermione managed to catch me before I fell.

I stared at Harry, whose face was in the very same position it was in before he released me, so that he seemed to be talking to the wall when he uttered through gritted teeth, "You are pointless." He snorted disgustedly and turned in his heel, the sound of his footsteps seemingly louder than my sobs.

"Go to him, Ron," Hermione muttered somewhere above my head, giving me the impression that Ron did not know whom to be with at the very moment ― his best friend or his turned-out-not-to-be cousin? His footsteps mixed with that of Harry's, and the tapestry concealed us from Draco, who for sure was still rooted to his spot.

"Hermione," I spoke, "I want to Vanish. Cast the spell on me, will you?"

She shook me tenderly, her voice cracking. "No way. Will you please be strong?"

I was completely aware that by this time I was unaware what the word strong meant. I doubt if I ever would.

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And there it is! I want to thank everyone who reviewed the previous chapters, namely: Ariauna, TwilightForever93, and warsucksiknow! Also, thanks to those who have favorited! I love you!

Please Review. :)

**~four-eyed 0-0**


	15. Chapter 15

I'm posting once again! Yey! This chapter's a bit weird, I don't even know why Marguerite acted like that. She's so weird. And would it really be good for her? Yay. I don't know anymore. Read and review!

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**CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Her Plan**

I was completely aware that by this time I was unaware what the word strong meant. I doubt if I ever would.

And so it would be better for me to be unfeeling, to be imperturbable. Unmoved, dispassionate, calm. And perhaps this would be the best option.

I slowly got up from bed and threw my dressing gown over my nightgown. Slightly opening the hangings of my four-poster, I peered through the room, making sure Hermione was fast asleep at last. She had been watching me all the time, afraid of what I might do to myself. She even told me she would talk to Harry about everything first thing in the morning, even if that meant skipping breakfast or angering him as well. I could not thank her for that.

Seeing that it was safe, I descended through the stairs and bobbed my head to the common room, which was empty, the fire giving off very faint smears of light from its dying embers. Then and there, I swiftly clambered out of the portrait hole.

"Where are you going?" the Fat Lady asked, perturbed, as I had awoken her from her slumber. I just stared at her and went on my way, catching her last words with which I just rolled my eyes: "Breakup with Potter must have been too hard."

One time I almost was caught by Filch but having a wand was the very thing that made me pass safely, as I set Mrs. Norris' tail on fire. As for Umbridge, I did not care. She must be dozing off with her own platter of painted kittens.

I smirked, unmindful that I was being Malfoy-ish. I headed to the Headmaster's office where a stone gargoyle sat, still as it ought to be.

I thought deeply. Harry had mentioned Dumbledore loved sweets. "Chocolate cockroaches?" Did not work. "Chocolate Frogs?" No either. "Berty Bott's Every Flavor Beans?"

"Acid pops."

I shivered. "Professor," I breathed, and she nodded. Professor McGonagall in her emerald green nightgown made her way toward me and placed her hand on my shoulder just as the gargoyle leapt from his position, and the wall split apart, revealing a spiral staircase. She led me inside and we were easily carried in circles to the door with the brass knocker that led to Professor Dumbledore's office.

She knocked.

"Come in. Minerva, Marguerite." I was stunned. _How did he know I would be coming?_

"Just come inside, Marguerite," Professor McGonagall told me and she opened the door, revealing different puffing, mysterious, and peculiar instruments, and a phoenix whose feathers were as bright as the sun in either its setting or rising. Several portraits of whom I thought were former headmasters and headmistresses hung on the wall, the painted faces of which were dozing off as well.

"Good morning, Professor," I greeted halfheartedly, noting that it was one o' clock in the early morn when I left the Gryffindor Tower.

Dumbledore looked at me and smiled. "You may now leave, Minerva," he said, and the addressed did as told. I knitted my eyebrows. "Come and have a sit, dear."

I followed. "It's not that I'm being paranoid or what, sir, but how did ― "

"How did I know you were coming?" he cut me off. He snickered, his bright, silver beard shaking. "I might as well tell you that I and Minerva knew you set fire on the tail of Argus's cat."

I just stared at him.

He looked at me thoughtfully. "Experience, dear, is our greatest pal, not even instincts or intuition." He smiled at me; half-moon spectacles glanced by the firelight. "It's been years since I have stood as headmaster here, so better should I know such things."

My mouth curved to a smile. _Hell, no. I'm indifferent from now on, right?_ I cleared my throat loudly and sat up straight.

"Now, tell me what it is that you would want me to be aware of."

"Professor, you see, I want to go back to France," I told him confidently. "And I want to keep it a secret."

He shifted on his seat. "Why would you?"

I trusted Dumbledore as much as I trusted myself. "I do not want them interfering."

"Interfere what?"

"I've got a plan. I need to find her without their help."

"Her? Who's her?"

"My true mother." I shuddered. I had been dreaming, I recalled, the very same dream I dreamt the first time.

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. _How can this be so easy with him?_ "And who are they?"

"Them?"

"Them. Who are they whom you do not want to interfere?"

I sighed. "Aunt ― " I cut myself, she was not my aunt at all, never was she, "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Draco…."

"And?"

I looked up at his so-calm face. "And?"

"And." It was firm. So firm.

I shook my head dismissively. "No one else."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his face still a poker face sort.

I did not answer. I just stared at him expressionlessly.

Dumbledore chuckled and heaved a sigh. "You know, _he_ is the prime reason why you would want to leave." I shook my head ever-so-slightly. "I know I am right. You know it by yourself."

"No, I don't," I retorted sharply.

He chortled again. "Oh, really?" I nodded ever-so-lamely. He smiled at this. "Marguerite," he said, his voice was far from what the shape of his lips suggested, "they are already interfering with whatever it is right there in your mind. I am fully aware that you are trying hard to be unaware of that fact ― that the persons you trusted the most are the main reasons why you are doing this ― and by that, they are actually meddling with your choices at the very moment. You can never deny that, dear."

I sighed his exhausted sigh. "You are wrong there, Professor," I told him seriously. I knew he wanted me to get there, so I decided not to beat around the bushes anymore. "I am not at all trying hard to be unaware of the fact that they are the main reasons why I am doing this. I am trying hard to be unaware of the fact that they can be the cause I might fail with what I am setting as my primary goal at the moment."

"Exactly." He laughed once more. _Would he stop doing that?_ "And I wonder what that goal is."

I stared _into_ him. "To find my mother. My _real_ mother. The one who dumped me to her friend when I was still a day old, born without any clue of what the world is about, born deprived of the very right to grow up with her, given instead the privilege to grow up in a stranger's arms, who does not even share a single sinew of my entity. Yet despite all these, she was someone better than the woman who carried me in her womb for nine damn months," I cackled, surprised of myself. "What was nine months compared to fifteen happy years? Nothing."

"What is nine months compared to fifteen happy years?" he repeated. "Everything. Do you think you'll have those fifteen years without those nine months you cursed so much?" He huffed. I huffed. "Why put such grudge against your biological mother? That _is _a greatest sin one can ever commit."

"All I want to do is to see her, and upon that, I shall decide what judgment shall be bestowed upon her."

"Marguerite ―" I glared at him. "I'm just warning you, revenge is never the answer. You will know once you see her." Dumbledore twiddled his fingers, thinking hard. "You know full well that the world today is dangerous."

"I know that _Voldemort_ is out there somewhere, and know full well that he killed my foster parents, as well as the fact that he is after me, and that Hogwarts is simply the only place where I am safe." I straightened on my seat. "Yet I must say that he is after a certain _The Boy Who Lived_, and that _Lucius Malfoy_ is my father."

"Good reason, Marguerite." He straightened on his seat as well. "Are you sure about this?"

I nodded curtly.

"I am quite sure that you plan to go now."

I nodded yet again.

"Well then ― "

"But first I want to write a letter for each of them, excluding _The Boy_."

He nodded himself. "Suit yourself." He motioned over a desk near the window where sheets of parchment, a bottle of ink, and an eagle feather quill sat.

"Will you please find a way for my trunk be taken here without waking Hermione up? She's too frantic about everything."

He smiled. "Ah, friends." It was said as though he was just reminiscing his youth. "Alright."

"Thank you." I smiled and went to the tabletop.

It was half-past three when I finished writing short but said-it-all letters to everyone. I wanted to leave as early as possible, so that there would be no worries in keeping everything a secret, not that they would not notice my disappearance first thing in the morning, but at least my whereabouts would be a _slight_ mystery. They would probably know where I would be going, they were not dumb, after all.

"Professor," I said, just as he made his way inside the office.

"Yes?" he looked at the stack of folded parchment on the desk, which I bewitched not to be opened or even seen by anyone else but the addressed.

I walked over to him and handed the pile. "Please give these to them," I said, eyes downcast. "I know I'm asking too much and have been rude, but you're all I can run to for help." I wept silently. "I'm entrusting you with all of them."

He patted my shoulder and gave the faintest laugh I ever heard. "Don't worry, dear, I'm totally fine with that. I perfectly know what you need right now." I looked up at him. "Here." He handed me a round compact mirror carved with elegant curves. "I know that you would want to grow withdrawn from them, but as you are entrusting me of them, I want to give that to you. Use it when you feel like seeing them would ease you even at the very least degree. Just say the name of whom you would want to check on and that mirror would let you see."

I muttered an embarrassed "Thank you very much" and embraced him. He snickered once more and patted my back fatherly.

"Now dear, you better be ready for your homecoming."

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A/N: As I've said, Marguerite's so much of a bipolar in here. Haha. I can't control her, you see. She's acting out on her own. What a character. Anyway, please hit the review button in there, will you? Haha. Motivate me. :) Maraming salamat po!

**~four-eyed 0-0**


	16. Chapter 16

HELLO! I really, really am sorry for not having updated at all. I did not have nay idea how to continue the story and I got lost.

Anyway, please read and review!

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Reunion Terminated**

She was staring at me with her bright blue eyes with a certain scrutinizing look in them. _Those eyes._ No other set of eyes would shine like the way hers did. No other pair of eyes would be as intensely blue as mine. Other than my mother. My true mother. Those eyes stared at me with guilt… with longing… fifteen years ago… with tears.

She was Angelie, right? Was this really how she looked like? I was not sure, but the skipping in my heart beat told me she was.

Before anything could be done, there she was, advancing toward me through wobbly knees. _Why is she here? Had she been living in this basement for years?_ My foster parents had told me that she ran away… the night I was left to their custody. They couldn't have lied to me. Just who was this woman? Was she really my mother?

What if this was all a trap?

But no, Dumbledore told me everything would be fine, that Voldemort would not come at all to take me away.

But what if he was mistaken? He was imperfect, too. Like anyone else. What _if_?

She was closing in and my first impulse was to take a step backward. And I followed what my brain semiconsciously told me. She stopped dead in her tracks. And my heart drummed my chest painfully. I grasped my wand. Her face suddenly twisted grotesquely, and I gulped down the lump in my throat to constrict my heart even more.

I found the courage to ask, "Who are you?" despite the dryness of my mouth and throat. She smirked, showing pointed and filthy teeth.

Then in my utter horror, there was her face, warping, her almond blue eyes narrowing, her pupils dilating until they were nothing but red slits. I stepped backward, willing every muscle of my body to cooperate despite their being frozen and numb. It was the only thing to do. _RUN!_

I broke into a mighty sprint up the winding staircase, not even bothering to light my wand and blasted the trapdoor, running wildly outside, heading for the garden… except that ― there was no door leading outside. My feet automatically skidded to a stop before I break my nose through the solid, dark wall. I wildly looked around, then let my mouth hang open at the sight behind me.

The Corneilles' house had gone. Instead of the bright although filthy hallway was a dark corridor, several tattered tapestries hanging from the walls. And I reached the dead end of it. Across me was a closed door with its rusty hinges and knob rattling. The fact that someone had built a _thing_ like this bothered me. Who in their right mind would have a dead end inside the _house_?

But the door knob was rattling ominously. I needed to break the wall before the monster behind it reached me. I fumbled for my wand and turned to the wall, only to gasp yet again.

The former wall had a door on it now. And it was shaking as dangerously as the other. My knees were giving away. Just what was happening? I looked back at the other door. It was still shaking. And a shout made me jump. Then there was a blast from across me, from the door.

Instinctively, I took a step backward, only to feel a long-nailed hand descend upon my weak shoulder. I looked at the blasted door. There was still the wild cloud of smoke and debris, and the fingers dug into my shoulder, making me look up.

There he was. With red, dilated pupils, nostrils reduced to slits, and his face… so ugly, so grotesque.

Swallowing, I summoned all courage to get away from him and directed my wand at his nose. He cackled. With my whole body aquiver, I looked behind me, only to find two, hooded and cloaked figures closing in. My eyes started to water. I could not feel my heart beating at all. _What do I do now?_

"Marguerite," Voldemort hissed, his voice resounding in the corridor. "Come with me, little girl…"

"N-n-no."

Then suddenly, my wand flew from my hand, and it landed on his stretched hand placidly. He smirked yet again.

"Harry Potter will be coming to save your neck, I'm sure."

My heart beat again at the mention of Harry. No. I was so stupid for fleeing. I was so stupid. Why didn't I think of this? Why was I so reckless? So tactless! I did not think at all. I just acted with the jolt of emotions. I did not consider things. This was all my fault. He was in danger. I was in danger.

Tears rolled down my face and there was no more I could do but wait for the Death Eaters to come and catch me. To drag me away someplace.

There was a burst of light and I knew nothing more.

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So that's it. Haha. What will happen? But I need to say that this chapter's just a little way from the end. Haha. :D

**~four-eyed 0-0**


	17. Chapter 17

I know. I know.

Please read, enjoy, and review!

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Acceptance**

The moment I opened my eyes, it was to find myself in a dark place where very little light seeped through the barred windows high up the wall. I felt so cold. And weak. I tried to bring my hands closer to me but found out that they were bound to the ― as I traced the direction with my eyes ― the bed. I blinked and turned my head around. It was true. I was lying on a rather dirty bed and my hands were bound to one bedpost. I swallowed. I was desperate to know what was happening. Then fearfully thought of what might have happened,

Just when I thought of the bespectacled Harry, a door across me opened, revealing a man with long blond hair. Lucius Malfoy.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, ready to spit at him. He was a Death Eater, more thank anything else.

He approached the bed and looked at me with… what? Concern? And tears in his grey eyes? I snorted.

"Don't act like you do not have anything to do with this, Malfoy. You must even be one of those damn Death Eaters who took me from that hell of a dead end with that monster!" I shouted, raging. He was my father yet he could not put a single toe out of line for my own sake. I could not bear to see him crying without doing anything. I did not need his tears at all. All I wanted was for him to be brave enough to do what the right thing to do was.

"I'm sorry for having allowed this to happen, Marguerite." His hand descended upon my head and he brushed my hair lovingly. Somehow, I felt secure and loved.

"But why did you have to do this? To set a trap for your own daughter?"

His eyes widened in surprise, the trigger of which I did not know. I knitted my eyebrows at him. "You accepted me as your father?"

I blinked and looked away. Yes. I wanted him as my father. I wanted him to be the best father he could be. "Yes."

Then before he could even touch me, there was a yell from some far away place and instead, he freed my hands from their restraints. I looked at him and he smiled, reaching for a wand in his pocket. "Here, take this," he said, handing it to me. It was not mine, though. "Just use it to escape."

"No," I objected, almost offending him. "I want to stay and make sure everybody would be fine."

"But ― "

"Papa," I said, smiling at his awestruck face, "trust me. I'm old enough." I jumped off the bed and kissed his cheek, before running away to where the loud explosions were coming from, still fearful of what might have happened. I reached a hall where sparks of different colors flew everywhere, one almost hitting me square in the stomach. I scanned the area to find my friends.

Hermione was busy with a female Death Eater while meters away from her was Ginny blasting a female too. When I turned my head, it was to find Ron almost hitting Lupin with a Reductor Curse, quickly casting a Jelly-Legs Curse on his opponent. Then, with a throb, I saw Harry, a whole throng of the enemies closing in on him. My hand moved to strike them and with utter surprise in his eyes, he stared at me, before I used the Impediment Curse on a Death Eater that was about to hit him from behind. He did not have anytime to react for another hooded figure almost caught him off-guard.

I stood on my corner, thinking that it would be more helpful to attack away from the herds of duelers. Blasting and cursing Death Eater after Death Eater, my friends and some Aurors cast happy glances at me and I did not notice Harry disappearing. With a jolt of panic, I warily ran away, my feet taking me wherever I felt like the right spot. And there was Harry, just by the dead end that I myself was caught into. The monster had caught him there and was leering. Harry was beside himself.

"Ah," Voldemort said, fiddling with his wand, his long, pale, fingers clutching at it. "Now, Potter, are you ready to join James and Lily?"

"Don't you make fun of my parents, Voldemort!" yelled the boy, almost fragmenting the walls. I shivered. What should I do? I just stood there, watching, waiting for the right time to strike.

"I'm doing you a favor, boy. And you should be grateful of that."

"Shut up," muttered Harry, before hitting him with a curse I did not know which, which the Dark Lord dodged as easily as gliding to the side, so that it almost got to me, if I wasn't too quick. Harry looked frightened now, and I stayed where I was, careful not to make them realize that I was just round the corner. But it was too late.

"Looks like your pretty girlfriend has come to watch how I kill the Boy Who Lived."

I could not help it. I let myself be seen and immediately yelled at Harry, "Go!" I Disarmed Voldemort, his wand landing feet away from Harry as he too shot a good Stunning Spell on him. Clasping the Dark Lord's wand, he seized my hand and yanked me away, steering the two of us around the corner. I did not realize how hot my cheeks grew hot until we halted halfway back the hall. He looked at me and without any warning, pressed his lips on mine, so that my breath caught in my throat. Tears rolled down my face yet again and when he pulled away from me, he wiped my face dry with his fingers.

"Thank you," he said, smiling.

"No. Thank you."

Just then, when everything seemed to be almost fine, when I was already assured of safety, a jet of purple light made its way to the two of us, and I quickly pushed Harry out of the way. The moment that the curse passed through my chest, I felt a great pang, and before Harry could shout my name, there was darkness.

* * *

I suck at things like that. Battle scenes? No way. And please be patient with me. :D

By the way, I'm updating in a bulk because I'm becoming super busy. I AM A SENIOR AND I HAVE THINGS TO DO. SO MUCH THINGS TO DO AT THAT. T_T

Reviews, please? I haven't checked this. I'm so busy.

:D

**~four-eyed 0-0**


	18. Chapter 18

Oh my goodness. This is my shortest chappie ever! And I know. I know. It sucks. But it is what I want to do! :D cheers!

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**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Final Run**

I did not know what had happened after I passed out. I just wished everyone was fine by now and that the Dark Lord was already gone. The time I opened my eyes, there was Harry sitting on my bed, watching me sleep. He smiled and planted a lingering kiss on my forehead. I smiled at him.

"What happened?" I asked, realizing the pain in my chest and quickly clutched at it.

"Are you all right?" His forehead was wrinkled in worry.

"Yes. Just a pang."

"Good," he said, and leant on his chair. "I was so worried when you got hit by that curse."

"What happened after that?" I asked insistently.

He hesitated, then finally said, "Well, all of us are safe except for some light injuries and Voldemort escaped yet again."

The fear that had been in my chest suddenly perked up, and the pain from the curse almost killed me. Harry was in real trouble. And so was I. What if Voldemort used me again against Harry? I could not stand another chance. No, I was definitely not running away because of fear of holding my life at stake once more. I was afraid of causing another problem to Harry.

I reckoned I needed to go away.

But I must stay here first and heal. My friends visited me everyday and brought sweets that I could not eat at all not for being full of food myself but because of lack of appetite. Even Dumbledore visited me every other day and he was the only person who seemed to knew about my decision. He promised to tell Harry why I went away when I was gone.

Then came the right night. When Harry, Ron, and Hermione went to the Gryffindor Tower and that Madam Pomfrey gave me my last dosage of the potions, I slowly got up from the bed and took my wand from the bedside table before meeting Dumbledore out by the gates. Just like when I first decided to go away, he was standing there, a thestral by him. I had the tingling doubt that it was the same thestral that rode me to France. The moon was shining over like a beacon.

I smiled sheepishly at the headmaster.

"Ready?" he asked, grinning.

"Yeah." I mounted the thestral whose eyes glinted with excitement. So it was indeed my mighty horse.

Dumbledore laughed. "I guess it likes you."

I nodded and before my horse started flying, I reminded, "Tell Ron and Hermione and Ginny I love them. Tell the twins, the Weasleys the Gryffindors, and my brother to take care. And please tell Harry to be strong and be safe. He can do what he is bound to do. And please tell him not to let someone special pass by his fingers. Tell him to be happy."

"I will, Marguerite."

"Thank you." I smiled a teary smile and kicked off the ground, the thestral soaring high up in the air, taking me to a place no one would suspect I was in. I was not running away. I was just keeping him from harm because of me. I was stupid most of the time. Most especially because I was still in search of my mother. Goodness knew how thick I could get and be trapped yet again. This would be better than be involved with him. At least no one would suspect I had anything to do with the great Harry Potter.

Together, and with tears in my eyes, I and my thestral vanished into the gloom of the night.

* * *

And there is it. And guess what?

EPILOGUE'S COMING RIGHT UP!

**~four-eyed 0-0**


	19. EPILOGUE

Well, yes. This is the epilogue and I wish it all clears things up. :)

I love you guys.

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

**Found**

It had been years since the final war had come to a conclusion. All of the world had been as peaceful as could be and one person had finally gone back to where it all started. Peace had finally dominated, and going back was the right thing to do after searching for someone who had long been dead.

Angelie had died years after Marguerite was born, as the latter found out after persistent seeking of her long lost mother. She had been constantly going back to France from her home in Turkey and three years later, a year after the war, she finally managed to visit her mother's tomb. She stayed in Finland for two more years, busy with her job in a Muggle company. Creating papers to make herself an educated Muggle was so easy that she instantly got the clerical job.

And after long last, she went back to the Wizarding London, and was placidly eating a wide glass of chocolate gelato under the shade of an umbrella on a table outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. It was mid-summer, and she decided to go to Diagon Alley to shop. Some things changed through the years, but the same names were seen everywhere. She even found out that Fred and George Weasley had been so rich because of their joke shop. She was still contemplating on whether to come over to see them secretly. She was wearing a pair of sunglasses and perhaps they would not recognize her at all.

Once finished of her gelato, she walked through the crowd and made up her mind to check on the shop. She did not care if they identified her. It had been years and it was about time.

Surprised to see throngs of customers filing into the shop, she smiled to herself. The twins were really famous now. She made her way inside and before she could even touch a box of Nosebleed Nougat, a small boy ran into her so that she reeled, and was about to fall when strong arms wrapped around her middle. Her sunglasses flew from her face and was instantly gaping at the shocked man in front of her.

It was Harry.

And he was gaping at her too.

Marguerite did not know what to do. Her cheeks were going red and her heart had a skip in its beat. Quickly looking away, she bent down to pick her shades from the floor and was about to place it back when he caught her wrist, sending a chill down her spine. She missed his touch.

"Marguerite." She looked at him and but her lip. He was smiling now. "Long time no see."

She gulped and before she could say anything, Ron and Hermione along Ginny and the twins had made their way to the two of them. The girls lunged at her and enveloped her in a warm hug, while the boys simply grinned. When she looked back at Harry, he was still smiling and slowly, tentatively, he reached for her hand, so that the others cheered. Harry nodded at her and she smiled nervously. He steered her out of the shop, and into the alleyway.

They walked, holding hands, quietly to the Leaky Cauldron. He opened the portal to Muggle London and they walked to the park without any word. Once seated on the bench, Harry placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. She was happy. No words said, just actions implying emotions. She placed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, breathing in his scent, unable to stop herself from smiling.

"I missed you," he said, after many minutes.

"Me too." She looked up at him and he grinned. Then reached for something inside his coat's pocket. He pulled himself away and was on his knee in a second's notice. Marguerite blinked at the diamond ring that sparkled against the sunlight, lost for words.

Harry smiled. "I've always been carrying this ring in hope you'll come by one day. And today's the day." He took her left hand and kissed her knuckles. "Marguerite Malfoy, will you take me, Harry James Potter, as your loving husband?"

Tears pooled in her eyes and she throatily replied, "Yes, I will."

Her fiancé slipped the ring to her finger and kissed her knuckled once more. He pulled her to her feet and with a smile, kissed her lips lingeringly.

F I N

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Oh yeah. THE END. So there's it. But please don;t throw tomatoes or anything! (PLEASE REVIEW!)

I finished this in one sitting along the three previous chappies and am so sorry for that.

I am cramming. I need to pass the first to chapters of my research proposal and school has just started yet! Goodness.

And I will be hibernating for half a year, I guess. Lots to do.

I am a senior. And that's why.

I am a writer and a student. I need to choose which is first.

And I guess I'll have student life first.

So, yours truly and till we meet again,

**~four-eyed 0-0**


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